


It's All Greek to Me

by psiphifan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, But it's actually a magical plant not a drug, Canon Related, Death Eaters, Draco is Hades, Dry Humping, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forced Legilimency, Forced Relationship, Forced memory alteration, Hell, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Kidnapping, Legilimency, Marriage Contracts, Masturbation, Memory Alteration, Mythology - Freeform, Mythology References, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Obliviation, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Out of Character Hermione Granger, Polyjuice Potion, Pomegranates, Pre-Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, School Uniforms, Slow Burn, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Vaginal Fingering, Virgin Hermione Granger, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-01-31 00:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 60
Words: 84,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21437539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psiphifan/pseuds/psiphifan
Summary: What happens when you combine the magical world of Harry Potter and Greek Mythology? You get witches and wizards who fulfill the roles of gods and goddesses and straddle the Wizarding and Immortal or mythical realms. The plot begins during the summer between "Half-Blood Prince" and "Deathly Hallows."'Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the rustle of wind behind her and the shiver that ran down her spine until someone grabbed her. The coldness of the hands made her think of a dementor, but Hermione couldn't think much more about that as her stomach dropped and she realized she was flying on a broom. Her eyes were closed, too afraid to look to see how high she was.“Scared, Granger?” a deep voice growled in her ear. It was familiar, but in the gravity of the situation, she couldn’t place it.Daringly, she opened her eyes, enough to glimpse where she was being taken, a strong arm secured around her waist. Her world went black as she saw they were headed straight for the ground.'
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 270
Kudos: 514





	1. Damn You

**Author's Note:**

> This was greatly inspired by the Webtoon series "Lore Olympus" by Rachel Smythe. I've always loved Greek Mythology but "Lore Olympus" made me think about how Dramione could fit into that lore. All HP credit goes to J.K. Rowling as always.

Hermione had been gathering flowers and fresh herbs in a meadow while she was camping with her mother. Her father had to work -- there had been an emergency at her parents' dental practice. She cherished spending time with her mother, especially before summer ended and she went back to Hogwarts. Especially when Hermione knew that a war was coming to a head; Voldemort had returned and he certainly didn't care about education other than the supremacy of purebloods. She would be turning 18 in a few months and was already legally an adult in the wizarding world.

Hermione enjoyed going back in her muggle roots, taking pride in the manual life that she’d grown up with, without magic. She knew that it was only a matter of time before the wizarding world was in a full-scale war and Harry, along with her a Ron in the middle of it. Her parents would need to be protected because of her involvement, but she hadn’t summoned her courage to do anything about it yet.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the rustle of wind behind her and the shiver that ran down her spine until someone grabbed her. The coldness of the hands made her think of a dementor, but Hermione couldn't think much more about that as her stomach dropped and she realized she was flying on a broom. Her eyes were closed, too afraid to look to see how high she was.

“Scared, Granger?” a deep voice growled in her ear. It was familiar, but in the gravity of the situation, she couldn’t place it. 

Daringly, she opened her eyes, enough to glimpse where she was being taken, a strong arm secured around her waist. Her world went black as she saw they were headed straight for the ground. 

Hermione woke, her temples throbbing. She was surrounded by warmth, though, from the dim light she could see her breath fogging in the dark air in front of her. The plush couch she woke up on seemed to be radiating heat and she wondered if it were some kind of warming charm. Part of her wanted to lay back down, close her eyes and ignore everything. 

Then, she remembered what happened and struggled to sit up. The sofa below her was moving…? Hermione cried out in surprise at the black material shifting beneath her as she slid down to the cold floor. 

A whistle, crystal clear and echoing, sounded behind her. She whipped around, wrapping her arms around her to control the shivering without her heat source. Something poked her from behind and she whirled around to face a giant beast.

“Down, Fluffy,” the same voice from before commanded. The beast, or rather the dog, slumped back down to where it must have been lying before she woke up. 

“Fluffy?” she repeated and the three-headed dog eyed her with drool hanging out of one of its giant maws. It was, in fact, Fluffy from her first year at Hogwarts, the one guarding the trap door!

Footsteps sounded on the ground somewhere behind her. “He seems to have taken a liking to you,” her kidnapper drawled. His tone made her stomach flip. She could see his smirk in her mind’s eye.

“Malfoy?” she asked and stood to face him as he revealed himself from the shadows. 

In the dingy lighting, Draco Malfoy’s pallor nearly looked blue and his hair was almost white, his silver eyes glinting at her. His crooked smile, or smirk, rather looked like a crimson gash across his pale face. He had dark half-moons under his eyes and his features were sharpened by the shadows. 

“No. You must call me Hades while we’re here.”

“As in the King of the Underworld in Greek mythology?” Hermione recited. His mouth twisted.

“Ever so studious, Granger. Yes, for that is who I am in the Underworld,” he explained and raised his hand to raise the torches to a brighter level. 

The Underworld was cavernous and freezing and she seemed to only be in one room of it. It didn’t make any sense. How did this exist? How did Hermione not know the places of myths were true after learning all she could about the wizarding world? Was Malfoy trying to trick her?

Malfoy, or Hades, was studying her. “Wizard, Muggle, and the Immortal worlds exist together if you haven’t gathered that yet.”

She bit her lip and the flames flickered violently around them. “Why am I here, though?” Hermione was playing along, but she had to know.

“As much as it pains me to say,” he said ruffling his hair. “I need your help.”

Her eyes widened. A million questions overwhelmed her brain. Hermione didn’t understand any of it and it was killing her -- well, not literally, even though she was in the Underworld.

“In what way?” she asked pragmatically. 

His mercury-colored eyes flicked to hers. “I’ve been asked to identify if any of the Underworld plants or substances can be used in the mortal realm, but since you are at the top of our class in every subject including Herbology, I need your help.” He gritted out the last part of the sentence with the admission that she was better at something. 

“And your solution was kidnapping me?” she accused, folding her arms in defiance instead of in an attempt to get warm. 

Malfoy/Hades shrugged. “Would you have come with me if I’d told you all this first?” 

Hermione didn’t know if she’d believed him without seeing it. He arched his brow as if reading her mind. She scowled at him. Malfoy was still a Death Eater, whether he wanted to be or not.

“Can you answer another question before I decide whether or not to help?”

His mouth twisted again and he stalked up to her. Hermione noticed immediately that he’d grown since she’d glimpsed him last year. He was no longer the scared, gaunt boy who’d let the Death Eaters into the castle. Malfoy now towered over her and his formerly slight frame had broadened at the shoulders. His lips above her were still red and much fuller than she’d ever noticed and his long nose made him look regal, like a Greek statue. The angular face had filled out a little bit to make his jaw stronger. 

“I don’t think you understand who holds the power here, Granger,” he growled. The flames rose higher in the torches. 

She wouldn’t be intimidated, though his approach did have her blood pumping for some reason. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for her wand in the holster on her thigh. It wasn’t there. Her mouth went dry.

“You didn’t think I’d let you have your wand while you’re my guest here, did you?” Malfoy smirked above her.

She rolled her eyes. “Your _ guest _? More like your prisoner. Besides, you can’t hurt me if you want me to help you.”

“Is that a dare, Granger?” 

Hermione blinked. His tone was threatening and thrilling all at once. What was happening to her? She shivered but it wasn’t cold since the torches were high and warm at her back. 

To her surprise, he turned on his heel and started walking away into the shadows. “Are you coming?” Hades/Malfoy called, his words echoing.

She was rooted to the spot. Her mind couldn’t separate Malfoy and his new identity of Hades, but there was something different about him. 

Then, she felt the ground buckle beneath her and she jumped forward. A chuckle carried from the direction Hades had disappeared. Hermione swore under her breath.

“I believe the phrase is actually ‘Damn you _to_ Hades,’” his amused voice corrected her.


	2. Lugentes Campi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione experiences more of the Underworld and discovers more about Hades/Malfoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be posting an extra chapter right away! My original plan was posting one per week, but because of my phone malfunctioning at the same time of going out of town, I couldn't keep to that schedule. Sorry!

As they topped what Hermione thought was a large slab of brimstone, she gasped at the sprawling, reddish-brown field before her. It seemed endless and the waist-high plants were uniformly growing in rows. She saw shades meandering through them. 

“ _ Lugentes Campi _ ,” Malfoy remarked as they overlooked the fields.

“Mourning Fields, from the  _ Aeneid _ ?” she said in disbelief.

She didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. “You think Virgil was a liar?” 

Hermione shook her head, but still didn’t quite believe this all was real. Would she wake up soon? Why was she dreaming about the Greek Gods and Draco Malfoy of all things? And if it was real, what did this have to do with Voldemort’s plan?

She snapped out of her reeling mind when he took her hand. Surprisingly, he was warm now and his skin was soft yet calloused in places, from Quidditch, she assumed. Malfoy gave her a tug that made her immobile feet stumble and she knew this had to be real. She blushed as he gave her a sideways glance. His pace had her trying to keep up with his long strides. 

“The shades can’t hurt you, but they’ll stay away from us as long as you’re touching me. Contact with them can be… unpleasant,” he explained. 

Instead of taunting her, he was comforting her? That was new. Hermione bent over one of the plants and examined the buds. There were small white and red berry-like fruit on the brownish-green stalks. She plucked one red bud off the plant to examine it more closely. 

A second later, a pale hand smacked the berry away, fingers grazing her cheek. “Malfoy!” she exclaimed. 

“Don’t you know not to stick unidentified plants in your mouth, Granger?” he mocked with a touch of concern. “It could be poisonous!” 

She scowled at him. “I wasn’t going to eat it, you prat! I was going to smell it.” Hermione smelled another red berry. “You’re right, Baneberry is poisonous by itself. But it’s also an ingredient in the Trace Detection tonic.”

His pale blonde eyebrows furrowed. “Trace Detection? Like for underage magic use?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No, it has to do with detecting trace amounts of magic around you and detecting potential breaches in the Statute of Secrecy,” Hermione explained. 

Malfoy mumbled something, clearly thinking about the prospects of using the plant. Hermione wasn’t sure if it was something that could be used in the war coming along. Speaking of the war…

“Malfoy?” He glared at her but said nothing. “I mean,  _ Hades _ .”

“Yes, Granger?”

“Does this Lord of the Underworld thing have anything to do with Voldemort?” she inquired. 

His eyes widened for a second as he itched his left arm beneath his robes, and then his face went blank. 

“If you must know, I inherited this role from my godfather… Severus Snape,” he said haughtily. 

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. She seemed to not be able to stop the burst of giggles from her mouth as she bent over with the force of it. Tears streamed down her face.

When she recovered, Malfoy was frowning. “I’m sorry, that was just too perfect to imagine Snape as the Lord of the Underworld, black robes billowing.”

“Are you quite finished laughing at my godfather?” She bit her lip. 

“What I don’t understand is why didn’t Snape identify these plants? He could have easily done it with his potion expertise.”

Malfoy repeated the gesture from before: running a hand through his shaggy blonde hair. He seemed to do it when he was uncomfortable. Had she made him uncomfortable? Hermione was used to doing so with other students, but not him. Malfoy always seemed too in control of his feelings and expressions and unruffled by her presence unless confronted.

“Snape wasn’t down here much because he was teaching. He actually inherited the role from the Dark Lord himself. That’s how Voldemort could go into hiding so easily.”

“Then typically, the role of Hades has been for bachelors, which doesn’t follow the myth,” Hermione pointed out.

“You speak of Persephone, then?” He gave her a wry smile that made her insides squirm. “That role hasn’t been filled in centuries.” 

“But you must carry the Malfoy line,” she said.

His eyes flashed with darkness for a second, but his mouth was in a firm line. “It’s not your business.”

“You’re right,” she agreed, wondering why she was so curious about the continuation of the Malfoys. “So you said Snape and Voldemort didn’t have time to catalog the plants down here?”

“That’s right. Snape thought it would be useful to force me to waste my summer down here in the doom and gloom,” he said with more melancholy than she’d ever heard him express.

Hermione put her hands on her hips. “Essentially, you brought me down here to do your job for you? What would Snape think of that? He finished off Dumbledore for you, do you always have others carry out your dirty work for you?”

He bared his perfectly straight, white teeth at her. “He won’t ever find out or I’ll leave you down here to rot, Granger.”

She whistled. “Wow, I never thought I’d see the day that Draco Malfoy admitted I was better than him, that he would threaten me to do his work for him. What happened to calling me a mudblood? What happened to thinking I was filth not even fit to dirty your shoes with?”

“I haven’t said that word to you in years,” he growled. She glared at him, though she knew he was right. Hermione hadn’t thought about it before, but he was right.

His fists were clenched by his side and there were a few meters between them. Malfoy/Hades seemed unable to speak, his tongue-tied by the thoughts running through his head. She wondered if he would actually leave her to rot down here. If Snape could kill Dumbledore and betray the Order, then she supposed Malfoy could punish a muggleborn however he wanted.

And then, a terrible chill ran through her veins, like a bucket of ice water drenching her body. This sensory feeling was followed by despair, hopelessness, and love lost. It made her think of Ron, of that stupid crush she’d had on him for years. Perhaps he’d realize it or she’d blurt it out, but ever since the Yule Ball, Hermione didn’t have much hope. 

“Granger?” Malfoy sounded concerned, his eyes luminescent and silver in the din. She realized she’d sunk to her knees in the rough soil. He was tugging at her elbow to help her up. 

She felt like a dementor had sucked part of her soul out. Hermione couldn’t move, she wanted to wallow in these feelings that had suddenly come over her. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing for it all to go away. 

“Hermione!” 

Was that Ron calling her name? She would have called her ‘Mione, that nickname she secretly hated but couldn’t bring herself to admit it out loud. If it wasn’t Ron, who was it?

Malfoy was holding her face in his hands and she realized his hands were damp, for some reason. She felt dazed and confused. They’d been in the Mourning Fields… arguing… then… Blinking, Hermione realized that her cheeks were wet with tears not his hands. 

If she dared to think it, she swore Malfoy looked relieved. “It was just a shade,” another male voice said from somewhere in the room. 

Hermione took in her new surroundings. He must have brought her there and set her on a sofa? They had sofas in the Underworld? It was plush, almost like Fluffy had been earlier. Why did she keep passing out? Was it because she was a mortal? A muggleborn?

“You’re right, Draco, that lip-biting thing she does is kinda cute,” the other voice remarked.

“Stuff it,  _ Thanatos _ !” 

She struggled to sit up and see the other man in the room, the mythical personification of death. As far as she could tell, now that Hades had stepped away, Thanatos was another student from Hogwarts, someone slightly familiar. 

He awkwardly waved at her from his reclined position from behind an ornate, mahogany desk. “As Lord Git here said, I’m Thanatos, but you can call me Theo.” 

“Theo? Theodore Nott?” she ventured and he nodded with a bright smile. This room, presumably Hades’ office of sorts, was better lit than the other places they’d been. 

Thanatos or Theo had striking hazel eyes and light brown hair that was effortlessly messy. Hades was sulking from a stuffed chair across from her. Hermione hadn’t been more confused or had more questions in her life. 

“What happened to me?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Hazel and silver eyes trained on her. “A shade touched you, or rather went right through you. Besides giving you the heebie-jeebies, you felt the shade’s eternal mourning for her unrequited love,” Theo explained matter-of-factly. 

She shivered and wrapped the blanket closer to her. Glancing at Malfoy, she realized that he’d swaddled her in his robes since he was now lounging in a charcoal wool sweater, probably cashmere, and fitted black trousers. Why was she concerned about what he was wearing? Why did he save her? Why was she really here?

“I already told you, Granger,” Malfoy drawled. Had she asked that last question aloud?

Hermione didn’t miss the look that passed between Theo and Malfoy, though. There was something they weren’t telling her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I will be changing the rating to Explicit for future chapters - you'll get some smut! Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think in the comments. <3


	3. Hades

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco shares more about the Immortals and Hermione questions his motives.

It had been a bad idea to bring her here, Draco thought. He wanted to tell her, he really did, but it was complicated and saying something outright wasn’t natural for Slytherins or Malfoys. The question was how could he convince her to stay?

“So, are more students like us filling the roles of gods and goddesses, then?” Hermione asked Theo. 

Theo gave her a lopsided grin that Draco rolled his eyes at. “Some, sure, mostly pure-bloods, though, no offense.”

“Wouldn’t that mean you’re not pure-blooded, though? If you’re fit to fulfill an immortal’s role?”

Theo shrugged in that devil-may-care way he always did. Draco cared, though. 

“I don’t know the ins and outs of it. It does have to do with lineage, I think, but how much I’m not sure. Perhaps, it’s personality,” Theo smirked at him. 

Hermione suppressed a laugh at his expense, but it didn’t lighten his mood. “Thanatos, don’t you have work to do? People are dying to get here,” Draco drawled. 

Theo glared at him. “I suppose. Summer is a slow season, though.” He stalked out leaving Draco alone with Hermione. 

“Isn’t Snape a half-blood? So, you don’t have to be a pure-blood to take on a role… Who else is a god or goddess?” Hermione asked, too curious for her own good.

As long as she wasn’t asking questions about her own presence here, he was fine with the questions. “Right as ever, Granger, you’re not required to be pure-blooded, but it's more common for us. My mother and two aunts are the Fates,” he said.

“Wow, that’s so interesting! Can I take notes?”

“No!” he said harshly. Draco needed to get a grip. Clearing his throat, he tried to put on an earnest expression. “This can’t be broadcast in the wizarding world and certainly not the muggle world.”

Hermione bit her lip, a habit that was making him want to tug the ripe flesh out from her teeth’s torture. He closed his eyes and thought of Snape punishing him to banish his feelings. Draco locked everything he couldn’t handle in categorized Pandora’s boxes. Speaking of, he should check on Pandora -- Pansy. 

“Were gods and goddesses always witches and wizards?” Hermione asked, interrupting his Occlumency. 

Draco shook his head. “I don’t think so, at least. Who can be sure?” He put his head in his hands.

“Why do you need me?” 

He let out a shuddering breath and some of his thoughts spilled out. “Because you keep me in check, Granger.” 

Draco didn’t see her reaction. He didn’t want to. “What will my mum think? She won’t know what happened to me…” 

He rubbed his palms over his face, fingertips digging into the hollow of his eye sockets, around the jellied feel of his eyeballs.  _ Bury the regret _ , Snape’s voice whispered, repeating like a mantra. His godfather seemed to know more about regret than Draco knew about him, period. 

“I had a message delivered to her. I forged your handwriting and told your mother that you’d gotten word from your friends Potter and Weasley that they needed help with a summer assignment and that you’d be back in a few days.”

He knew she’d gotten to her feet. “Malfoy! You thought she’d believe that utter bollocks? She’s probably worried sick. What if she goes to check on me? She could go to Privet Drive. Summer assignment? Merlin, Malfoy!” Hermione rampaged.

Draco stood and grabbed her by the upper arms. She still tried to hit him in the solar plexus but failed to move him. He waited until she was gasping and still trying to fight him before speaking.

“I want to remind you that you’re here under my protection. You have no way out aside from when I take you back. Time moves about a quarter of the day faster here, so it will be less time for your mother to miss you. I promise I will take you back when I told your mother you would return,” he said evenly as if he’d memorized the speech -- he basically had.

She’d dropped her hands to her sides, her head down, staring at their feet. He could smell her hair: jasmine and honey. Relaxing his grip on her, Draco reluctantly stepped away. 

“What do you need me to do next?” she asked, her voice small. 

“This way.”

Two minutes passed and she was already arguing with him again.

“I’m not getting on that again,” she said, stamping her foot in defiance.

He scowled. “Granger, if we don’t fly it will take  _ days _ to walk where we’re going. Don’t you want to get back to your mother?”

Hermione eyed the broom wearily. “There’s no other way?”

She was afraid. And for some reason, he didn’t want to see her like that. He wanted to believe that she was the daring, brilliant, frustrating witch that he’d always known her to be. Perhaps, she would let him show her how to ride a broom properly. 

Another fantasy to bury. Then, he had an idea.

Draco whistled, the sound echoing infinitely. Confusion wrinkled her smooth brow as she looked around. He smirked. 

Cerberus, also known affectionately as Fluffy, bounded around the corner, a spray of rocks scattered in his haste to please his master. To his displeasure, Fluffy started licking Hermione with one of its heads, the other ones salivating over her. 

He tried to ignore her giggles and baby talk over the hellhound and the jealousy it bolstered in him. Clearing his throat, Hermione shoved the beast off her and Fluffy had enough sense to look remorseful. Draco climbed on his back and held his hand out to Hermione.

She took it, her brave face back in place. His mask solidly shielded his emotions from her eyes as her warm hand closed in his larger one, pale over golden. He swallowed hard. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm shifting perspectives and I hope it's not too confusing. Please let me know how this is reading for you! Thank so much!


	4. Asphodel Meadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to GetTheBiscuit for their kind words of encouragement!

“Wow,” Hermione said breathlessly as a field of white flowers emerged from behind a wall of dark granite. Fluffy stopped abruptly before flowers sprouted from the grass. It was still gloomy, like a cloudy Scottish day, but the flowers seemed to brighten up the endless expanse. 

Draco caught her with a solid arm around her waist before she slid off from the force of the hellhound’s stop. Suddenly, she felt too warm, though she knew the Underworld was cold in general -- it was probably the heat radiating off Fluffy. Hermione was confused about this entire situation. She was in a waking dream and, despite the circumstances, she was curious about the Underworld.

The white flowers shaped like six-pointed stars grew to her knees and brushed the tops of her thighs as she approached them. Hermione startled when she heard something behind her, but realized that it was just Hades following her. She examined the flowers and smiled.

“ _ Asphodelus ramosus _ ,” she heard Malfoy whisper beside her as he gazed at the plants. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “So you didn’t need my help after all,” she huffed. Of course he knew what these flowers were… 

“Harry used powdered asphodel root to make the Wiggenweld potion for the Slug Club last year,” she murmured. Hermione was still bitter about Harry using the Half-Blood Prince’s notes. 

Especially after…. She glanced at Malfoy automatically and bit her lip. He was fine, no permanent damage from the abominable spell. Absently, she wondered what his scar looked like. No, she would not think about Malfoy shirtless.

“It’s also used in the Draught of Living Death. Remember we made it in Slughorn’s class and Potter beat you?” he smirked.

She glared at him. “That same book he used to cheat was the same one that almost killed you last spring,” Hermione snapped.

He grimaced and absently scratched his chest. “Why am I really here, Malfoy? You clearly don’t need my help to identify these plants.” 

Malfoy stood to face her, his height making her raise her chin to maintain eye contact. He really looked like the God of the Underworld glaring down his nose at her, refusing to speak or blink before she did. She thought he might be using some kind of Occlumency to keep his emotions from showing. 

“Am I your mudblood prisoner, your torture subject to show off your skills to Voldemort? Are you condemning me to an eternity of suffering your insipid presence and playing your games?”

He stalked up to her and his long fingers curled around her neck. Hermione refused to back down even as her airway was slowly being cut off. She refused to struggle in front of him. Her feet now dangled above the ground as he lifted her to his level. 

Hades’ eyes were bloodshot up close, the metallic irises glinting even in low lighting. His nostrils were flaring and it seemed like he wanted to say whatever it was, badly. She knew he didn’t want to admit whatever his plan was to her. 

Suddenly, he released her and she hit the ground knees first in the hard soil. She had to take a moment to drag in the ragged breaths she’d been deprived, her heart pumping fast. Hermione had to close her eyes to focus on the slowing of her heart and the oxygen replenishing. 

Looking up, she was surprised and confused to see Malfoy offering his hand to help her up. Hermione refused on principle. How dare he lose his temper and then try to act like a gentleman without apologizing? He stood a few feet away from her, his head down inspecting one of the flowers that he’d picked. 

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” he said, more to the asphodelus bloom than her. What was going to happen next today? First, she wound up in the Underworld and now Malfoy was apologizing and using her first name?

Hermione blinked at him. She struggled to find any words; she didn’t know where to start with him. Confusion wasn’t a normal part of her life. Closing her eyes, she attempted to regain control of her mind.

“Breathe,” a deep voice said into her ear and she inhaled automatically, a sweet and sickly aroma assaulted her senses and seemed to erase the cacophony of thoughts and replaced it with a limpness, a fuzziness, dulling her emotions. 

Hermione opened her eyes, which were heavier now, and saw the asphodelus blossom beneath her nose. She couldn’t even bother with getting mad, she felt slightly sedated. Molten mercury eyes replaced the flower in her vision. They were hypnotizing; they made her want to jump in and drown. 

“Better?” the voice asked. She nodded, her head felt like it was filled with wet sand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your feedback/comments would be the greatest gift this holiday season!


	5. Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione have an argument.

Draco hadn’t wanted to do it. He didn’t want to drug her; the scent of the Asphodelus flower only creates a light sensation of euphoria, relaxation. Hermione had been agitated. He could see the questions, anger, frustration simmering to a boil with his legilimency skills. Draco hadn’t invaded her mind, but rather lightly probed her frame of mind.

She needed to calm down or else the shades in the vicinity would start to react to her magical and emotional presence. Those in the Asphodelus Fields were in a sort of limbo, they needed an even keel environment. Hermione had crumpled into his arms, one supporting her head and the other beneath her knees. 

He could tell she was awake, in a fog, so he decided to take her to a safer place. The only place Draco really felt safe in the Underworld.

Draco had only read a few pages when he noticed Hermione stirring. At first, she slowly roused herself on his bed and then she bolted upright, her honey-brown eyes meeting his in a panic. He’d sat in the chair across from the bed closest to the fireplace. Closing his book, he waited for the maelstrom.

“You drugged me!” she shrieked. “Give me back my wand and send me back home now, Malfoy!” Hermione stood on shaky legs, her bottom lip quivering in rage.

He shook his head and that small motion further incited her. She grabbed him by the sweater, the woven material stretching in her fist. Draco met her eyes wearily. His little lion was back in her prime, still wandless, but a demanding fury. 

“I can’t,” he whispered, more of a sigh. 

Her fist clenched more, knuckles turning white. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not safe for you there!” Draco growled. A line of confusion creased between her brows. 

“You-you don’t care about what happens to a mudblood like me, Malfoy. You’re a  _ Death Eater _ ,” she argued like she was trying to convince him. 

She was still leaning over him, his shirt gripped in her hand, and she smelled like vanilla. He shut his eyes off from her fierce yet puzzled gaze. Draco didn’t want to do this, but he had to. She would probably run away either way.

“I care, Granger. More than I want to…”

She snorted. “What are you in love with me or something?” 

His eyes flashed, anger flaring. “No, you insufferable swot! The Dark Lord will hunt you down, don’t you understand? He will kill your parents and torture you! This is the only safe place for you.” 

Hermione stepped back from him and he stood a good distance from her. He could see her hands shaking. 

“I don’t see Justin Finch-Fletchley or the Creevey brothers here too. What about the rest of the muggleborns? Why me, Malfoy? I can take care of myself. We’ve been training, you know. What about the rest of them?”

His jaw clenched. “If Potter fails, you’re our only hope at stopping the Dark Lord, at setting me free from his reign.” 

She crossed her arms. He tried not to notice how her arms pushed up her breasts. He failed.

“Don’t you think Harry needs me now? Don’t you think my parents need me?” she asked, as rational as ever. 

Draco grimaced, but a thought came to him and he smirked at her. “How are you going to save them, Granger? I’m sure you have a plan, what is it?”

She bit her lip and he internally moaned. It seemed that this was her weakness. Hermione sat on the bed as if she couldn’t stand any longer.

“Why should I tell you? How do I know you won’t try to foil my plan if I get out of here?” He could feel the waves of sadness through a slight legilimency probe.

Draco couldn’t fault her. “I promise, on my honor as a wizard and a gentleman, I will not tell a soul or try to disrupt your plan.” He could have sworn he heard her snort at the word gentleman.

Her face crumpled as she tried to speak. Sobs wracked her body as she told him, “I was… I was going to… erase me... and the magical world from their-their memories… Send them far away, change their names….” 

Rather than continue to stand there with his mouth agape, Draco gave her his handkerchief. It was white, embroidered with a silver M. She used it, wiping her face, still sniffling. His hand tilted up her chin to look at him.

“Children shouldn’t have to save their parents, but you and I… We both have to. He threatened my mother’s torture if I didn’t join him if I didn’t do what he said. I can’t imagine not having my parents even though this is my father’s fault…” 

To his surprise, she put a hand to his cheek, her fingertips soft on his skin. “Your father is at fault for many things, Malfoy.” She smiled and laughed, her nose red.

Draco couldn’t help but joining her in a sardonic yet cleansing laugh. The laughter felt wonderful and doubled him over, it was like a lightening of the soul and it wracked his entire body and tears came to his eyes. He wiped his face with his hand and looked back at Hermione

She was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger!!! What do you think is going to happen? Let me know in your comments below.


	6. Seeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens!

“Fuck,” he said to the empty bedroom. He’d lit only two of the torches to read by while she was more or less unconscious from the Asphodelus. It seemed colder without her. Of course, Hermione had fooled him. 

She didn’t know how to get out. At least that was a comfort, except that she could get into trouble just about anywhere; she was Hermione Granger after all, too curious for her own good. Common sense would have told anyone else that wandering away and trying to escape the Underworld was not a good idea.

There was one way to find her quickly. Draco whistled, the sound carrying throughout the caverns. His faithful Fluffy bounded through the door and he was virtually covered in slobber and saliva a second later.

“Fluffy, listen, find Hermione, please and bring me to her.” He climbed on the hellhound’s back, gripping the velvety fur. 

One of Fluffy’s maws was sniffing the ground, one was scenting the air, and the third was vigilant of where he was running. In the beast’s haste, Draco had to hold on as they sharply turned a corner to where the gates of the Underworld stood. 

“Look who showed up,” a mocking, deep voice greeted him. 

“Hermes.”

Hermes’ caduceus staff was at Hermione’s throat, the wings biting into her collar bone and the snakes pressed between her breasts. The glee in his fellow Slytherin’s dark eyes made him sick, his twisted smile taunting him.  _ Fucker. _

“She’s under my care, let her go, Blaise,” Draco demanded, trying to appeal to his frienemy’s compassion. 

Hermione’s eyes were wide and darting between them. She couldn’t speak for fear of the staff’s sharp adornments piercing her skin. Hermes/Blaise chuckled ominously.

“Can’t do that, Hades. I’ve been ordered by Zeus to bring her back.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Kingsley shouldn’t be sticking his nose into Underworld business.”

Blaise shrugged and didn’t release Hermione. She licked her lips, which seemed a little redder than when he last saw her. Draco frowned at the situation. His plan was foiled by the Order and he was trying to help her! He needed more time.

Wandlessly, he tried to disarm Hermes, but that damn staff repelled the spell. That failed attempt only made Blaise laugh harder. 

“We’ll be going now, hell boy,” the wizard said, smirking at him. Blaise started dragging Hermione back towards the gates, back to the mortal realm. Draco was powerless to stop him, to save her from harm’s way now. 

Fluffy nudged his side affectionately and Draco absently patted him as he watched them go. When Hermes got to the gate and opened the sixty-meter high door with a touch of his staff, he had to release Hermione from his tight grip. Draco’s stomach clenched at the opportunity to snatch her back. Hermes’ stepped through the doorway before her, but when he tried to take Hermione with him, she was rooted to her spot within the Underworld. 

No matter Blaise’s tugging, she wouldn’t come through the gate, even if she tried to take a step. Draco stalked towards them, his confusion and elation growing at Blaise’s struggle. 

Hermione was looking back and forth between Hermes and Hades. Draco sensed her panic, her despair. He didn’t want that for her, but he didn’t know what was happening either. 

“She seems to have consumed the fruit of the Underworld,” a familiar female voice echoed from behind him. Draco whirled around to see his mother standing there, a shadowed expression on her face. “Pomegranate, was it dear?”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “I-I was so hungry and… it looked so ripe and delicious. I thought a few seeds would tide me over…” Her lip trembled, still coated in the pomegranate juice.

“Mother?”

“The prophecy,” he heard Blaise utter in surprise. “I’ll be back.”

He didn’t even pay attention to Hermes’ departure, Draco stared slack-jawed at his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for giving this quasi-crossover fic a chance! Let me know what you're thinking in the comments, I really appreciate them!


	7. Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a bunch of short chapters churned out, so in the spirit of the holidays, I'll be trying to post a few more this week!

“It seems my son hasn’t studied his Greek mythology as was recommended before he took on his role here,” Mrs. Malfoy said dryly to her.

Hermione had no idea what was going on. She couldn’t leave now, she couldn’t go back to her parents. What had Blaise meant by a prophecy?

“I suppose, since you are muggleborn, that he didn’t consider the possibility--”

“Of what, Mother?” Malfoy demanded, his anger making the torches flicker. 

Hermione suddenly remembered which myth had to do with pomegranates. “Persephone,” she said.

Malfoy stared at her in shock, his head whipping around making his blonde hair fall into his eyes. While he stood stock still, Mrs. Malfoy appeared to float towards her. She was one of the Fates, he’d said. 

“I’d heard you were clever, dear. More clever than my son and they were right,” Mrs. Malfoy smiled with kindness in her voice. 

“But that means…”

“Yes, Miss Granger. You will have to stay here six months out of the year. Though, I expect Hermes will return soon to bring you back to your parents for the remainder of the summer until the autumn begins.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. She wasn’t sure if it was because she’d get to see her parents again or if it was because she’d have to return to the Underworld shortly after her birthday. How could she be so stupid to eat something in hell? What would she tell her family? Harry and Ron?

She allowed Mrs. Malfoy to comfort her. While the witch had never been nice to her before, there was something nurturing about a mother. She smelled like clean linen, though Hermione knew that the pureblood matriarch had probably never done laundry in her life. 

“It’s alright, dear, I know my Draco has a soft spot for you. He always has, though he may not have shown it to you until now,” the witch whispered soothingly.

That comment sparked her frustration. “Kidnapping me was his version of kindness?”

“Draco makes decisions based on emotion, though he might deny it. He wouldn’t have agreed to take on the Dark Lord’s tasks without concern for his family. He wouldn’t have brought you here for any other reason than he thought you were in danger elsewhere.”

Hermione’s mind was spinning again at this revelation. It couldn’t be true, except that Mrs. Malfoy’s assessments were sound. She was one of the Fates after all. How was any of this real?

She peered over Mrs. Malfoy’s shoulder and saw Malfoy awkwardly standing where he’d been rooted to the spot. He seemed to be in the middle of an internal battle, his fists clenching and unclenching, his eyes shut tightly. 

“Is that true, Malfoy?”

His icy, gray eyes opened suddenly. What she saw reflected back was nearly enough to tell her that his mother was telling the truth. Emotions were swirling behind his irises and he was trying to keep it all in check.

He pursed his lips, the friction making them redden. Instead of speaking, Malfoy gave a curt nod. 

“What will happen when I return here in a few months?” she asked, directing it at Draco. “Will I be allowed my wand, at least?”

At Draco’s inertness, Mrs. Malfoy answered, “Yes, dear. Your being here has nothing to do with magic and more to do with the ancient ties our kind has with the immortals. Draco took your wand to ensure your safety here, but he will show you how to use it safely as to not disrupt the balance in the Underworld, right love?”

Draco grumbled something affirmative in response. “Right, well, I will be here as often as I can get away from the Manor to check on you while you’re here, Miss Granger.”

“Hermione is fine, Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you for your help.”

“It was my pleasure, Hermione. Please call me Narcissa,” the blonde woman smiled brightly at her. 

Hermione nodded. And a second later, a hysterical laugh announced the trickster Hermes’ arrival. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments and kudos would be the greatest gift of all!


	8. Resigned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!

Blaise brandished a scroll and handed it to Draco. He hissed as it zapped him ever so slightly -- _ damn Zeus_! Hermes chuckled at this. 

Sure enough, the agreement was in line with the myth. Hermione/Persephone was to be in the mortal realm from the spring to the fall equinoxes and come to the Underworld in the fall. It worried him, though. What could happen in those remaining months that he couldn’t save her? What if she was attacked, or worse killed. Would she hate him if she returned to the Underworld?

Nevertheless, he was obligated to sign the contract over to the Fates. This was meant to be, somehow. There was a dark sense of humor in all this. Why did he try to be a hero to save her? She didn’t even care about his gesture, his plan. It was all for nothing and now they were stuck with each other until they handed their roles over. 

“It’s all right, Draco. It’s only a few years that you have to stay like this, for both of you,” his mother reminded him. 

Three more years in Hell. Literally.

Hermione looked bewildered. He sensed it and saw it in her wide eyes, the whites of them visible around her brown irises. Draco wanted to say something before she left. What if she didn’t make it back? What if all he’d done was for nothing… just like his mission for the Dark Lord. 

Before he realized it, he was right in front of her, Hermes only steps away, seconds away from whisking her back to the mortal realm. He hadn’t planned what to say, he wanted to say so many things, things that didn’t even make sense to him, things buried deep in his throat that he had to keep from bubbling up.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he practically growled at her. Hermione gazed up at him, her bottom lip held hostage by her front teeth. He remembered how her large teeth had been fixed after he’d hexed her. It was a small, childish thing, but something he felt guilty for nonetheless. 

She didn’t have the chance to respond because Blaise grabbed her arm. He hadn’t meant to command her, to insult her, but he knew that he had. Draco Malfoy failed again… The guilt gnawed at him until she vanished back to the mortal realm. 

Later, he was glad his mother had gone home as he sipped his firewhiskey. The burning down his throat was better than the fires that his actions had set in his mind. Draco hadn’t thought of the consequences once again.

“Why the long face, Drake?” Theo appeared from the shadows.

He drained his tumbler and ignored his friend by pouring himself another. “I thought you’d be happy, that you’d want to celebrate.”

“Fuck you,” Draco said bitterly. 

He heard Theo smirk behind him. “Don’t you have souls to bring here? I doubt you’re at your quota, Thanatos.” 

“Back to business, are we, Drakey?” 

“I told you not to call me that.”

Theo laughed loud enough to wake the dead… if they ever slept. “I know you couldn’t kidnap her permanently, but you get her for six months of the year. That’s good enough, right?”

Rage flared in his mind. He threw the glass against the wall, the shattering sound calmed him. None of this had turned out right.

“Good enough? She’s my fucking wife now, you lowlife! Against her will, mind you! Against mine too. I didn’t want any of this!” Draco seethed.

Theo was unfazed. “You wanted to protect her, to save your little wet dream from the Dark Lord. Knowing you, this is the best it could have turned out in any scenario,” the wizard drawled.

Draco shook with anger. “Wet dream? That’s what you think this is about? It’s not. I had a fucking premonition, you arsehole! I saw her being tortured, crucio’d within an inch of her life, her arm carved up with a cursed blade.”

“And you think that won’t happen still? How do you know it wasn’t you torturing her? Maybe that person was imperiused to torture her?”

He grit his teeth. “It was my Aunt Bella.” 

Theo crossed his arms and smirked. “And you think that with you she’s safer? Your aunt could come visit, you know.”

“She rarely leaves the Dark Lord’s side. My mother won’t say anything to her about Persephone’s identity,” Draco argued, hoping he was right.

Theo stood, straightening his suit jacket. “And what about the wedding?”

Draco sent a wandless stinging hex and got Thanatos on the buttocks. “Ouch, you fiend!”

Now it was his turn to smirk. “No wedding, you idiot. This is more or less a contractual arrangement and we will treat it as such. I can trust your discretion as to my bride’s identity?”

“Comes at a price,” Thanatos said sorely. Draco summoned a new bottle of firewhiskey and handed it to his friend. 


	9. Oracle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all over the place emotionally -- I guess that's pretty accurate for how I feel about the new year!

Hermione felt like she’d dreamt everything she’d been through with the Greek gods and goddesses. Her parents had been worried, yes, but they’d been pacified by the fake letter Draco had written to them. She hugged them tightly, her father now there for their camping trip. Everything about this situation twisted her gut. 

At least Malfoy hadn’t thought her idea was terrible. If anything he’d been understanding about it all. They were more or less in the same boat but on different sides of the war. The war that neither of them wanted. And yet, she had to basically marry him…

Hermione tried to clear her mind and focus on her parents. She had an expiration date with them. Soon, they wouldn’t remember they had a daughter. A tear escaped her eye only to brush against her mother’s shoulder.

***

It was September 19th; Hermione’s birthday. They’d survived the Battle of the Seven Potters to see Harry’s 17th, Fleur and Bill’s Wedding happened and they escaped, they’d stolen the locket from Umbridge by breaking into the Ministry, and then Yaxley followed them back to Grimmauld Place... Luckily, Hermione had apparated them out of there to camp in the forest.

It had been Hermione’s idea for them to share the burden of the locket. It made each of them ornery and depressed, but Harry couldn’t take on all of Voldemort’s dark soul himself. That’s why she and Ron were there, that’s why they were in this together. 

Except, Hermione hadn’t told a soul about her immortal role. And in four days, she would be whisked back to the Underworld. Back with Malfoy. She didn’t have the heart to tell the boys. It would distract them from surviving and figuring out a way to destroy the horcrux. 

Since she’d left the Underworld, her communication with Malfoy had been limited to a coin. It was an enchanted galleon that he’d sent her by owl when she’d still been with her parents. Hermione blinked back tears. Malfoy had asked her to hold it sometimes, warm it in her hands so that he would feel it. That way, he knew she was alive. 

She tried not to think much of it. Malfoy may care about her well-being, but that didn’t mean it was any more than that. Glancing at where the serial numbers would be on a regular galleon, Hermione saw the countdown to her return to the Underworld. She had to at least write Harry and Ron a letter with some kind of explanation for her disappearance.

Hermione hoped there would be a way to communicate with her friends while she was away. It was one of the first of many things she would have to work out with Malfoy. She shuddered at the thought of six months in the Underworld. 

Unfortunately, since they were on the run, Hermione hadn’t been able to do any research other than the books she’d brought in her bag. She’d written McGonagall before she left her parents for the Burrow about books on the wizarding world’s relationship with the Greek Immortals, but the new Headmistress said Hogwarts didn’t carry any books on the subject. She’d suggested that it was pureblood lore.

She scribbled her letter to Harry and Ron furiously, the locket heavily resting against her sternum. Sure, it made her moody, but she had every right to be. Hermione had to go back to Hell -- who wouldn’t be upset?

A deep voice cleared itself behind her. She scrambled to cover what she was writing and ended up spilling her acorn tea all over it. “Sorry!” Ron squeaked and rushed to help her clean up the spill he’d inadvertently caused. The letter was ruined, but at least Ron didn’t see it, she thought.

“Ron!” she complained anyway. “It took me forever to figure out the right consistency for acorn tea!” 

“I’m  _ sorry _ , ‘Mione. I was just going to suggest taking the locket from you… You looked agitated,” he said bluntly but seemed genuine.

Hermione all but threw the horcrux at him and stormed into her “room” in the tent. She fell onto her makeshift cot and sobbed into her pillow. Nothing was fair! She’d had to make so many sacrifices in the past few months and no one had remembered her birthday. Neither of the boys dared to follow her into her room and had left her to cry herself to sleep.

_ She blushed as the blonde head of the angel bent to kiss her hand. This must be heaven. Hermione wore a flowing white gown with sprigs of lavender woven into her hair. They were standing in a field of those same flowers at sunset, the sky soft pink and vibrant orange.  _

_ After he stood up, she still hadn’t seen his face properly, but his skin was like porcelain from what she’d seen. He was wearing a white three-piece suit and when she looked down, Hermione realized he’d slipped a ring onto her finger. _

_ It was a large sapphire surrounded by black small diamonds with a silver band and setting. The ring seemed to contrast everything, but it was quite extravagant and lovely in its own uniqueness. She looked up to find a blonde witch staring at her expectantly with a smile. Was she in her year at Hogwarts? A Slytherin, Daphne, was it? _

_ “I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride,” Daphne said, her white Hellenic dress draped elegantly against the breeze. _

_ Hermione panicked but realized she must have missed the rest of the ceremony. Perhaps, this was how it happened in heaven. A gentle hand stroked her cheek -- the angel wanted to kiss her. _

_ She closed her eyes and turned to him. Soft, warm lips pressed against hers, a hand resting on her waist. She could feel the heat radiating from his body and it made her shudder with want. Hermione had never been touched like this by a boy, as though she were precious. Her first kiss with Viktor was nothing like this. He’d tried to snog the living daylights out of her, shoving his tongue down her throat.  _

_ The angel was gentle, pliant and attentive as she stepped closer to him so their torsos were pressed together. Hermione allowed her hands to tangle in his feathery hair as she let him deepen the kiss. She moaned into his mouth when their tongues met, the taste of him like mint and sage. It was masculine and familiar.  _

_ He relinquished her lips too soon for her pleasure. Their foreheads rested against one another, his neck craned down towards her. She opened her eyes to finally see him straight on. _

_ Her stomach fluttered and dropped as if she were on a broom falling from a great height. Molten mercury eyes, darkened by passion, met hers. She pulled away suddenly. _

_ “Malfoy?” her voice shook, her body shook and she woke up.  _

Her dreams had betrayed her, her subconscious body had too. It tricked her into wanting him, or her dream version of him. Hermione’s eyes were swollen from crying, but she felt the slick between her legs. It had felt so real: the softness of his platinum hair, the gentleness of his hands and lips on hers, and the warmth of his body. 

How could she dream about him being so tender? He’d carried her several times in the Underworld while she’d been passed out and drugged, but he’d also nearly strangled her too. Malfoy was mercurial, that was for sure. Was her attraction to him due to the ancient magic binding them to their roles? It had to be, that’s why her clit was throbbing and her arousal was flaring.

Hermione decided to take care of her little problem anyway, no matter what caused it. It didn’t have to be Malfoy who she imagined. Her dream man was faceless, strong yet gentle as she stroked her clit and pleasured herself. Though, the last thing she saw before she came around her own fingers were his eyes, those dark silver eyes watching her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2020 everyone!!! Thanks for a great 2019!!!


	10. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione returns to the Underworld to find things have changed drastically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ Drops a little lemon and a Dramione moment for 2020! ~

Draco woke up painfully hard -- not just the usual morning wood. His bollocks felt sore as he remembered the dream he had of Hermione. They were being married by Hera -- Daphne Greengrass -- and Persephone looked radiant. He’d put his family ring on her finger and she’d let him kiss her, pressing her body against him. 

He wasn’t sure who had deepened the kiss, but the brush of her tongue nearly made him cum in his pants. She didn’t even shy away when he pressed his erection into her soft, flat stomach. And then he’d woken up.

Draco was truly screwed. Would she ever be able to accept him? Would she ever forgive him? Would she ever want to… 

He fisted his cock and imagined what Granger would feel like. Would she be wet for him? Draco thought he’d noticed her checking him out. He pretended that she wanted him, even for a few minutes as he tugged on his prick, imagining her riding him.

Her brown curls fell in a curtain around them as she bounced up and down on his cock. Her arse pressed into his blue balls and she was moaning. He’d hit the right spot inside her as he bucked up into her velvety heat. Draco imagined her tits with puckered, dusky nipples bouncing as she rode him faster and faster…

His toes curled as one last thrust jetted his seed onto his own stomach. If fucking Granger was anything like that… he was in trouble if he thought she’d ever let him get near enough for him to do anything sexual in nature to her. 

Then, he remembered: it had been her birthday yesterday! He cursed that he couldn’t tell her he hoped she was having a good day, couldn’t give her a gift. Alas, Draco could only feel the occasional warmth of the galleon in his pocket. His heart soared and plummeted as he remembered that it would only be a few more days until she was trapped in the Underworld with him.

It was his dream and his nightmare simultaneously. Draco had no one but himself to blame. 

***

“So today’s the day, huh?” Theo drawled from the corner.

Draco rolled his eyes. The prat wouldn’t drop it! Instead of dignifying Thanatos with a comment, he brusquely left his office to meet Persephone at the gates where he’d last seen her. Dread and nervous excitement plagued him.

Thanatos’ constant yapping about what a love-sick fool he was didn’t help his mood either. Draco nearly forgot about his favorite thing about being Hades. The incessant talking ceased as Theo was sucked into the ground and transported to a different section of Hell. 

Hermes had just landed with Hermione as he strolled up to the gothic gates. At her appearance, he was concerned first and foremost. She looked half-starved and infrequently bathed. Her hair looked straw-like, eyes hollowed out. What had happened to her? 

“Thanks, Hermes,” Draco tried to say with as little sarcasm as he could. The trickster gave him a delirious grin as if he could see right through Hades’ heart. He swallowed and turned to Hermione.

Draco whistled for Fluffy. He felt envious when Hermione’s eyes lit up at seeing the hellhound. Why couldn’t that expression be for him? 

His stomach clenched at the sound of her laugh as Fluffy’s giant heads took turns nuzzling her. Despite her haggard appearance, a smile lit up her entire being. It was magical after months in Hell. 

“Alright boy, settle down!” he commanded and mounted the beast, pulling Hermione up with him. She was definitely lighter than when he’d done that months before... 

Draco watched her face morph into disbelief as he showed her into her quarters. This was what he’d focused on for the summer. He needed to believe that she was at least comfortable in the Underworld while she was staying here. She had a sitting room, which led into her bedroom complete with a four-poster bed and an attached bathroom with a shower and bathtub as well as a walk-in closet. While she never struck him as a witch obsessed with clothes, he wanted to make her feel welcome. 

Gryffindor red was too obnoxious for his taste, so he’d gone with shades of violet like the dress she’d worn to the Yule Ball. He’d paired it with gold accents to mimic her Hogwarts House colors. Draco knew from Snape that she hadn’t gone back to school this year, but he didn’t know where she’d been or why she looked like she’d been homeless for months. 

Hermione had been mesmerized by the size of the closet, which, with the help of his mother, he’d provided her with cashmere jumpers and socks, flannel pajamas, a plush robe, and slippers to stave off the cold in the Underworld. The rest of it, he’d assumed, she would fill with some of her own clothes. She stood there staring into space with her arms hugging herself. 

“Hermes didn’t tell you to pack a bag?” Draco asked hesitantly, rather annoyed if this was the case.

He was relieved when she pulled out a small beaded bag that any other witch would take to a special occasion. Raising an eyebrow at her, she sheepishly reached her entire arm into the tiny purse in response. His jaw dropped. 

“An extension charm, eh, Granger? Clever.”

She grimaced. “It’s all I had with me when we were attacked, so I really don’t have many clothes or anything.” 

“Attacked?” Draco said with more concern than he meant to reveal.

She nodded. “First, at Bill and Fleur’s wedding and then after we broke into the Ministry.” He nodded. His father had told him about the second daring plan carried out by Potter and his sidekicks. Their successful scheme had infuriated the Death Eaters. 

“Don’t tell me any more, I don’t want to know where Potter and Weasley are in case I’m interrogated,” he said hastily. 

He groaned internally when she bit her lip, eyeing him and the room. “Thank you for this, Malfoy. These rooms really are too much. They’re lovely, but I’m not used to this… extravagance.” 

Why was she acting so shy and meek? As if they were complete strangers… maybe that was better? To put their past behind them and start over. 

He waved his hand at her gratitude as if it all were nothing, as if he hadn’t spent over a month designing and decorating. “My mother helped a lot. She always said I had a fairly spartan style of living if I was left to decorating,” he said flippantly.

Hermione chuckled to his surprise. “I can’t imagine that. You were always kind of a ponce,” she teased. 

So much for forgetting the past…. “Well, not all of us can be brave and brilliant, Granger.”

Her eyes grew wide at the casual compliment. Draco mentally kicked himself. 

“I believe you were second in our classes, Malfoy, so you were still pretty brilliant even if you weren’t brave,” she remarked.

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to not show the blush creeping up his neck. They were being civil, which was better than he could expect, but now there was an awkward silence and he didn’t know what to say.

“Do you mind if I shower? I haven’t had a real wash in weeks,” she asked. 

He shook his head. “Not at all. I’ll leave you to it. There are towels in the bathroom. I’ll see if I can find you more clothes to wear than what’s in there.”

Draco couldn’t look at her now that he was picturing what she’d be doing after he left. She’d be naked in the shower, water caressing her smooth skin. He all but ran from her bedroom.

Now where in the  _ hell _ was he going to get clothing for this petite witch? 

***

Hermione didn’t want to leave the shower, but her hands were pruned. The steam and heat warmed her through the bone for the first time in weeks. She’d probably looked like a wraith or banshee when she showed up, but at least that look was probably better than most of the shades in the Underworld. Part of her felt guilty for bathing and luxuriating in the comforts Malfoy had provided her when her best friends were hiding out in the forest. 

Living and surviving in the woods with two teenage boys wasn’t quite a picnic, though. She was responsible for pretty much everything besides the horcrux when it wasn’t her turn. She’d cooked what little they had, put up protection spells, laundered their clothes, etc. Hermione had a newfound respect for Mrs. Weasley and her numerous male offspring.

Speaking of the Weasleys, she felt like she could devour the same amount of food as Ronald at a feast. Her stomach no longer growled, but the hunger gnawed at her. Reluctantly, she turned off the shower and wrapped a fluffy, deep purple towel. Had Malfoy known that her favorite color was violet? Perhaps, it was a coincidence. 

Unwilling to deal with her unruly curls, she dried them as best as she could and tied them into a messy bun atop her head. She changed into a pair of flannel pajamas and encased her feet in the softest slippers she’d ever felt and shuffled out into the sitting room feeling pampered.

Hermione’s mouth watered upon discovering the delectable spread on the coffee table. It was a Sunday roast and more food than she’d seen in over a month. She made herself eat slowly as she salivated and gulped. There was even tea service to wash everything down.

Though she usually savored her solitude, it felt a little creepy without anyone near her in the Underworld. She didn’t know where Draco’s rooms were in relation to hers and didn’t know where he was or what he usually did. What time was it, even?

A knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” Hermione called politely.

Malfoy came in with something in his hands. He was dressed leisurely as she’d seen him before in a cable knit jumper with dark trousers. However, now, if she knew any better she’d say he looked nervous.

A small spark appeared and she realized that he was holding a small cake with a candle in it. “Happy Belated Birthday,” he said with a genuine smile.

She should be horrified; however, she was pleasantly surprised. While her best friends had forgotten about her birthday in their dire situation, a boy who’d tormented her years before had remembered. Hermione wanted to believe that this wasn’t some Slytherin ploy to gain her trust. They were in a difficult, unprecedented situation and he was trying to make the best of it.

“Oh, Malfoy. Thank you! Really, this is all too much,” she gestured to the room and food.

He shook his head. “It’s my fault you’re in this mess, so please, I insist this is me trying to make it up to you.”

The flame reflecting in his metallic eyes made her stomach flip. They were filled with something, dare she say desire? No, that couldn’t be. Just the amount of food she’d consumed and the smell of chocolate from the cake.

Malfoy set the cake in front of her on the table after magically clearing the other dishes. Instead of sitting next to her on the settee, he sat in the arm chair to her left. Eagerly, she blew out the candle, only for it to spark back to life after the smoke cleared. 

She heard him chuckle and looked at him in confusion. “You have to make a birthday wish, Granger,” he drawled. Hermione glanced back and the candle and realized he’d re-lit it wandlessly.

“How did you know--”

He shook his head with a smirk. “I know you didn’t make a wish.” She huffed indignantly, but paused for a second to think of something.

What she really wanted was to not be in this situation at all. Hermione blew the candle out again. And yet, the candle reignited again!

“Malfoy!” she complained.

“You have wish for something that’s at least possible,” he criticized.

Hermione glared at him, but he sat there seeming bored, drumming his fingers on the armrest. How did he know what she’d wished for? Was he practicing legilimency without her knowing?

She thought for another minute and then blew it out again. The smoke turned into golden glitter shimmering as it fell into jimmies on top of the cake. It was a small, lovely piece of magic. Hermione smiled.

Malfoy stood with a lazy grin. “I hope your wish comes true, Granger. Surely Potter and Weasley won’t get into too much trouble without you around.”


	11. Oblivious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione run into an unexpected Underworld guest and Hades must make a difficult decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist putting up another chapter! Hope you enjoy the read and thank you for your support.

Before the smoke dissipated, Draco bid her goodnight and his long legs took him three strides out of her sitting room. Had he made himself appear too sentimental? Had he been too honest? Honesty wasn’t really part of the Slytherin creed: half-truths and white lies were, but even a lazy voice speaking the unadulterated truth left him feeling vulnerable.

Draco had bared his heart to a Gryffindor lion and she’d been speechless. Rather, he hadn’t really given her the chance to respond, to react, at least in his sight line. He didn’t even realize that he’d been walking in the opposite direction of his chambers until it was too late...

“Hades?” A seductive voice called.  _ Fuck… _

Draco slapped on his best fake smile and turned towards the set of rooms that made his guts twist and balls shrink into his body. Hecate slithered up to him, her fingers starting to crawl up his chest. He cringed away.

“How are you, Hecate? I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you’d be back at Hogwarts,” he said as evenly as possible. 

“Oh Draco, I just had to come visit you for the weekend to see that you’re not too lonely here,” she whined. Her dark hair tickled his nose, her curls coiling like Medusa’s snakes. She was a perfectly lovely girl, but she came on too strong and he wasn’t interested despite his father’s insistence on the match. That’s how she got her role.

He smirked, trying not to let her visibly ruffle him. “Astoria, I’ve got thousands of dead people to keep me company. Thanatos has also been a frequent visitor. You shouldn’t go to this much trouble for me.” 

Discreetly, he tried to take a step back from her, but Astoria seemed to anticipate it and moved with him. She was glued to him, her clear blue eyes focused on his every move. She had porcelain skin, but it made his own skin crawl to touch her. Hecate was too doll-like for the role, but he had to put up with her nonetheless. 

“It’s no trouble at all, Hades. I like to get away from that drafty castle. Would you like to come in for a nightcap?” Astoria flashed a devious smile and he could feel the heat from her body as close as she was to him. 

He tried not to look back toward Granger’s rooms. Draco didn’t want Hecate to know that Persephone had come to steal him away from her. He was surprised, actually, that his father hadn’t summoned him or told the Greengrasses about Granger. Draco wondered if his mother had even told his father. 

“I have an early appointment with my father tomorrow, so I’ll have to decline,” he lied easily.

She pressed more firmly up against him, her soft, lithe body so small compared to his. And yet, Draco didn’t want her. He probably could have risen to the occasion if he bent to his natural urges, but he was detached from her. He wanted…

“Malfoy?” He froze as if he’d been hit with a full body-bind. 

_ Double fuck _ !

“Hermione Granger?” Astoria peered around him. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. This couldn’t get any worse…

“Yes, hello,” Granger said hesitantly, walking closer to them. 

Astoria looked up at him. “What is she doing here, Draco?”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt…” Granger began, her swotty voice inserting itself. Draco’s mind was spinning, trying to figure out what to do. 

“Astoria, you know, I will take that nightcap. Do you have firewhiskey?” he said, turning his back fully on Granger. Astoria gave him a coy smile and turned back to her room. 

While Astoria was babbling on about something, clearly distracted from the Gryffindor’s presence now, Draco turned back to the witch behind him.

“Granger, wait for me in your rooms. I won’t have you wandering about.”

“But…”

“Go!” he said sternly. The torches in the corridor flared wildly. He didn’t have to watch her to know that she had huffed and stomped back to her rooms.

It should have given him more pleasure to make Granger scurry away, but he didn’t like any of this sneaking around. Even Hades couldn’t control everything in his Underworld. Draco took a deep breath to steel himself for what he had to do. 

“Thank you,” he said, smiling fakely at Hecate through his mask. She’d poured herself a finger of St. Germaine and clinked her glass against his. 

“Are you going to tell me why Hermione Granger is here? I assume she hasn’t died,” Astoria said dryly. 

He grimaced and drained his tumbler. “Frankly, it’s none of your business, Tori.”

“Clearly, since it’s gotten you so flustered, Draco.” She turned to refill his glass and he pulled out his wand.

“ _ Obliviate, _ ” he casted. In slow motion, Draco watched the tumbler falling from her hand and he rushed over to catch it, wrapping an arm around her waist in the process.

“Oh!” Astoria said in response to him catching her swooning. “I’m sorry, I felt a bit faint just then. What were we talking about?”

He swallowed the bile in his throat. “I was saying how lovely you look tonight.” She flushed as he helped her to stand upright. 

“Thank you, Draco.” She licked her lips and her gaze went to his mouth. He had to do this… he had to ensure she was distracted, that she truly forgot. It disgusted him to do it.

Her lips were wet and warm against his, but she barely responded to him. He pulled away quickly and seemed to leave her dazed, eyes closed. Her eyes fluttered opened, lips still parted.

“I should go, I have an early appointment with my father in the morning.”

He’d wiped that line of conversation from her mind, so she looked shocked at this announcement. 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? I wouldn’t have asked you in. Will I see you tomorrow, Draco?”

He shook his head. “I have a lot of business to attend to. You should return to Hogwarts, Astoria. Focus on your studies and don’t let me distract you,” he said in what he hoped was a brotherly tone.

“But, Draco… We’re meant for each other. Our parents are drawing up contracts.”

He tucked a finger under her chin and he eyes widen. “I know. But I need to focus on the Dark Lord’s plans. You shouldn’t worry yourself over me. We’ll be together when He triumphs.”

She nodded sensibly. He prayed the day never came when those promises would come true. At least Astoria appeared pacified by the kiss and what he’d said. She needed to stay away from him for now. 

“Good night,” Draco bid with a bow and exited her rooms. 

He felt sick to his stomach during his walk to Granger’s rooms. Astoria was innocent in all this, but for Granger’s safety, no one outside the few who knew about Persephone could find out. He was risking everything for her, for a witch he barely knew. A witch he was supposed to hate.

Upon entering her sitting room, he was immediately assaulted by her wand to his throat. Draco gazed down at her with tired eyes, waiting for her challenge.

“What did you do to her?” Granger demanded, fire in her eyes. 

“I didn’t hurt her if that’s what you mean.” That answer didn’t appease her. 

“I’ve seen her at Hogwarts, Malfoy. I know she’s a student. You had that Slytherin glint in your eye. What did you do?” 

He was a little flattered that she had recognized something so subtle about him. Draco had to fight the urge to smirk in satisfaction. 

"I don't usually kiss and tell, Granger."

Her face flushed and the redness traveled down her neck. She looked away from him, pursing her lips.

"That's no-not what I meant, Malfoy. Stop toying with me," Granger asserted, want still at his throat.

He sighed, unable to relish his achievement in flustering Hermione Granger. Resetting his face into his usual mask, he resigned to tell her.

“I wiped her memory of seeing you and that conversation,” he said nonchalantly. She withdrew her wand.

She shook her head in disapproval. “I thought so.” 

“What would you have had me do, Granger? She showed up unexpectedly and no one can know you’re here.”

Granger rolled her eyes. “Yes, because that would certainly ruin your reputation…”

He snarled at her, striding up to her and taking her by the arms. “You know that’s bollocks! I did this for you, Granger. If Voldemort finds out you’re here… You will be tortured, you will die and then the war will be lost,” he yelled, shaking her. 

Instead of looking fearful, she was confused. For what seemed like the million time she questioned, “Why do you care, Malfoy?” 

He sighed. “I didn’t want to be a Death Eater, Granger. I didn’t want anything to change. I didn’t want my mother to be in danger. I didn’t want to become Hades. I didn’t want to alter Astoria’s memories, I didn't want to kiss…” Tears welled up and phlegm blocked his throat from continuing.

To his complete surprise, she wrapped her arms around his waist, her rogue curls tickling under his chin. His arms folded around her shoulders from where he’d been shaking her. Draco wanted to collapse around her like a supernova and fade into oblivion. If anything, that is what he was doing by hiding her away in the Underworld. 

“Either you’re a really good actor or you really do have a heart, Draco Malfoy,” she mumbled into his chest.

He hummed. “Don’t you feel it beating?” Draco whispered. Indeed, his pulse had started racing at her proximity. 

“Mmhmm… Malfoy?” she asked, tilting her chin up. Their mouths were mere inches apart.

“Yes, Granger.”

“What happens between us now? Why does this feel…”

“Comfortable?” he supplied, not wanting to pull away yet. 

She snorted slightly. “I was going to say strange, but it’s comfortable in a way.”

A knock on the door made them jump apart as the door opened. Thanatos’ head poked through with a devious smile. Draco rolled his eyes and had the urge to flip him off. Theo was like a bloodhound and seemed to always know where to find him in the Underworld.

“I hope I’m not interrupting something, but my friend here was eager to see you both,” Theo drawled and a witch entered the room.

Draco’s eyes widened. “Hera.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Why has Hera shown up? Let me know what you're thinking in the comments!


	12. Hera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hera gives Hermione more insight into the Immortals, and the King and Queen of the Underworld strike up an agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to the lovely commenters from the previous chapter: Elisabeth226, Ju_StADreamer, Fangirl_5711, and Banditochronicles! Your readership and interest fuel my writing!!

“Hello, Hades, Persephone,” the goddess said serenely. Her blonde hair flowed down her shoulders and the pink draping dress fell to the floor. The Greengrass sisters shared doll-like features, but Daphne had a grace Astoria lacked.

“I was asking how good ol’ Zeus was doing, but she wouldn’t answer me,” Theo said mockingly and Draco rolled his eyes. 

Hera/Daphne shot him a cold glare before turning a dazzling smile on Granger. “How are you doing, Hermione?” 

Granger looked as though she’d seen a boggart or a dementor. She was blinking rapidly at Daphne, her eyes wide.

“You’re Hera?” Granger confirmed, still looking shocked.

Daphne nodded and took Granger’s hands in hers. The Gryffindor seemed even more flustered by the hand holding. Was Hera giving off some queenly vibe that Draco didn’t sense? Theo, on the other hand, had a shite-eating grin about something.

“Goddess of Marriage and Birth?” Granger babbled, staring at her own hands in Daphne’s. Patiently, Daphne nodded again.

The Gryffindor princess was in a trance. Draco started to worry until Hera began speaking in a low, confiding voice.

“Persephone, you had the dream, didn’t you?” Granger blushed and nodded.

“I didn’t know…” Hera hushed her. 

“It will happen when you’re ready,” the Queen of Goddesses proclaimed and glanced at Draco with a warning look. “I would like to speak to Hermione in private, Draco.”

Thanatos was looking lecherous as the witches went into Granger’s bedroom and closed the double doors. 

“Why the fuck are you here, Theo?” Draco snarled.

“To watch this Greek tragedy unfold, of course,” Theo smirked.

***

Daphne sat next to her on the tufted bench at the end of her bed. While Hermione knew that the goddess was the same age as her, Hera seemed so much more mature and at peace than she’d ever considered herself. She was wringing her hands and Daphne laid one of her soft palms on top to steady her. Her serene blue eyes captivated Hermione.

“Don’t be anxious, Persephone. You are soon to take on the role of one of the most powerful goddesses, which hasn’t been occupied since the actual Persephone. You are the Queen of the Underworld, one of the three realms.”

Hermione bit her lip but spoke her wonderings aloud anyway. “Can you tell me more about the roles in comparison to the actual gods and goddesses?”

Daphne sighed softly. “Always thirsty for knowledge… What I’ve been told is that the gods of old were tired of dealing with humans and so they left the roles to wizardkind because they were human but more powerful than muggles.”

Nodding and trying to file that explanation away, Hermione was startled by Daphne’s other hand on her cheek. “What we should be discussing is how you are feeling about all this.”

“I-I don’t… I know know, really. While I didn’t want to abandon Harry and Ron, I can’t help but feel a little relieved not to be… erm… where they are,” Hermione tried to reason.

Hera smiled again. “I understand, and you can tell me anything. Kingsley, Zeus, already knows where your friends are. Don’t worry, help from the Order will come for them.”

“You’re married to Kingsley?!” Hermione blurted out. 

Daphne took in a deep breath and leveled her with an even stare. “We are not. Kingsley was already married when he took the role. His wife did not want to pursue the role of Hera and it passed to me many years later. Trust me, it’s a common joke among many in this small community,” Hera explained with a touch of exasperation.

“So you can refuse a role? Why can’t I refuse Persephone?” Hermione asked desperately.

Hera gave her a sad smile, her blue eyes nearly weeping for her. “Unfortunately, with the circumstances surrounding your role -- your capture and pomegranate seeds -- and the extent of time that it hasn’t been filled, it’s impossible for you to do so. There really isn’t a law or decree dictating this world, but it’s fate, really.”

Hermione willed herself to take a deep breath. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, it’s just all so unexpected… Does this mean I must marry Malfoy?”

With a nod, Daphne said, “As you are both unmarried and of age, you are obligated to marry him, but only in this realm. In the wizarding world, you may be able to hide and deny it, but here, you will be his queen, his wife, until your roles are passed on.”

“When do they pass on?”

“Three years is the typical starting period, but if one wishes it may be longer.” Hermione shook her head. She basically had to stay married to Malfoy for 18 months out of three years. That was a long time to be attached to someone…

“You have time, though, Hermione. As I said, you will marry him when you are ready,” Daphne said gently.

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “What if I’m never ready?”

“You will be. The Fates have told of it before you and now.”

It was all so mysterious. No one seemed to have a concrete understanding of this ancient world of the so-called Immortals. Which dimension were those lazy gods and goddesses in? Were there alternate realities? How would anyone know if everyone kept them secret like this Immortal world?

“Come back to me, Hermione,” Daphne said calmly, squeezing her hands. 

She blinked and realized she’d gone into the depths of her mind. “Sorry.”

“Trust me, this will all work out. You and Draco need to be honest with each other. Talk to each other. You have more in common than you consciously realize. Be good to one another. I know he’s making an effort with you. When Draco tries with all his heart, he succeeds,” Daphne said in a prophetic voice, her eyes blazing into Hermione’s. 

It made her tremble, so much so that the knock at the door made her jump from the bench. Daphne bid whoever it was to enter. Theo poked his head in.

“We gotta get going, Hera,” he said, his eyes roving around Hermione’s bedroom. “Nice digs you got here, Granger.” And Theo winked at her. 

Daphne sighed and moved to follow him out, but not before saying, “Remember what I said, Persephone.”

Hermione watched her go. Despite her status at Hogwarts and in the Wizarding world, these gods and goddesses were treating her with kindness. Even before she was forced into being Persephone, they were more or less courteous. And so far, Draco seemed to be trying to make up for everything he’d done to her upon her return. 

It was difficult for her to take everything Daphne said as truth, but her own observations had proven it. Draco Malfoy, Hades, God of the Underworld, was trying to protect her in the ways he knew how. Pixies fluttered in her stomach as a blonde head peeked in through the door ajar. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, standing halfway in and out of her room.

“I suppose… Come in, please. We should talk.” 

Malfoy obliged and stood by the fireplace as if he were posing for a nineteenth-century portrait. He lit a fire with the snap of his fingers, the glow warming the room more than the heat.

“What did Hera say?” he asked, still staring into the hearth.

Hermione bit her lip, trying to choose her words. “She said we will marry when we’re ready. And that you were trying, trying to get along with me. Are you… erm… ready?”

“Ready to marry you?” His silver eyes glinted at her. “We’re only seventeen and eighteen.”

“She said three years was the starting period.” Malfoy nodded as his gaze returned to the flames.

Hermione approached him, cautiously. “And we’ve known each other for nearly seven at Hogwarts?” 

He snorted. “Know is a strong word, Granger. I was a bully and a spoiled prat. Still am… All I know about you is that you’re top of the class, brilliant, loyal to your friends, and you have a mean right hook.”

He smirked at her and looked away again. Was he flirting with her? Before it seemed like they could have… 

“You’re right, we don’t know each other very well. And it’s not like we have classes to go to tomorrow. Let's stay up and get to know each other,” she proposed decisively. 

Malfoy looked at her dubiously, as if she were offering him something he suspected contained poison. “You should really get some rest. We have time, it can wait.” He turned to leave but she grabbed his wrist. 

That dark glint was back in his eyes for a split second and then it was gone. “Tell me one thing I don’t know about you for now. I’ll tell you something in return,” Hermione bargained. 

He thought, his eyes tracing something behind her. “I hate the color green.”

She wanted to roll her eyes at his shallow answer, but they had to start somewhere. “The sorting hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I told it that I needed to be brave because all I knew of magic was from books, to bolster my courage, so it put me in Gryffindor.”

To her surprise, he smirked. “I always thought you were cunning enough, Granger,” Malfoy drawled, his eyes alive with interest. He took her hand and bent to kiss it.

His lips felt like they had in her prophetic dream: soft yet firm and gone far too soon. Heat bloomed inside her, unbidden and sudden. Her breath hitched at the sensations spreading within her simply at his touch. 

Was this part of their fate? Were their roles pushing them together? Was it their situation, their proximity? When he closed the door with an uttered ‘goodnight,’ she stood there breathless.

Hermione gathered herself and grabbed a book to read until she fell asleep.


	13. Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is introspective and introduces Hermione to a new part of the Underworld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to the lovely commenters on the previous chapter: Banditochronicles, thekingsequal, and Elisabeth226!!! And thanks to all the readers, I know this isn't your normal Dramione fic, but I appreciate your readership!

Draco dreamt of her torture that night. Her cries echoed in his brain as the crimson of her blood welled up where the seams were split apart by his aunt’s cursed blade. He woke up gasping, sweating through his sheets even though the air was frigid around him. 

He didn’t know if he’d done enough to save her. Even the unforeseen Persephone role may not prevent her torture. Draco couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t drag his mother into this again as much as he needed her guidance, her comfort. It was too risky with the evil snake residing at the manor. 

As he calmed down, he went to take a bath in his Jacuzzi -- only the best for a Malfoy, King of the Underworld. The heat and steam warmed his soul, the ice in his bones melting away. He wanted, no, needed, to see Granger before going to his work for the day.

Draco remembered her grabbing his wrist, his lips pressing a kiss to her knuckles. She wanted to get to know him, but what would she find other than his tortured soul? He’d done evil, he’d erred, he’d repented, he’d cowered, it wasn’t anything a witch like her would want to see. And yet, she didn’t shy away from it, the brave soon-to-be queen. It was why he needed her. To balance him. 

He needed her smile, her ire, her brilliance, her passion; it stirred something in him that he’d once thought was hate and envy. Draco recognized it, just barely, as desire and hunger for something he couldn’t -- shouldn’t -- have. There was an ache in him to make her his. Was that Hades or him? His yearning for Granger or Hades’ desire for Persephone?

She was right, as much as it pained him to admit it. They should get to know each other before anything happened, before they’re married. What happened if he overstepped? What if his passion for her made her hate him more? But what if…

He daydreamed an extension of their marriage dream he’d had. Where Daphne left and he laid Persephone down on a blanket in the field of lavender. The drive to make her his in body and spirit was thrumming through his veins as she allowed him to peel the white dress off her golden skin. She gazed up at him with gentle, nervous eyes, but nothing about her was unwilling as she laid bare before him graced by the hues of the sunset. 

Draco pushed slowly into her wet heat. Her eyes were glowing as she begged, “Please… Hades… I need you…” 

With a groan he spilled himself in the roiling water, his fantasy tainted by the suspicion that the old magic of the Immortals was forcing her to want him. Nothing could be simple. Deep down, he admitted that he was attracted to her, but ever since he’d brought her to the Underworld she seemed even more tempting. He still had to try to get to know her, though. His suspicion would be something he’d ask his mother about the next time she visited. 

Later that morning, the knock on his suite door made his heart leap. He’d invited Granger to brunch in his rooms to continue her proposal of “getting to know each other.” It was a gesture of good will. 

“Good morning, Persephone,” he said cordially as she shyly walked in. 

“Thank you for your invitation, Hades.” Draco gestured for her to sit across from him at the small table. She’d worn a purple cashmere jumper, leggings that she must have had in her clever bag, and slippers. 

Her eyes swiveled around the room, his sitting room. “You weren’t kidding about being spartan.” Granger commented.

“Tea or coffee?” he offered, ignoring her observation. Draco’s rooms were various shades of black, white, and gray. Dark wood played a part as well in the furniture. The accents were silver and gunmetal gray, sleek and modern. 

Despite the simplicity, everything was fine quality. The silver tea spoon she was using to put a lump of sugar into her tea was worth fifty galleons alone. He wouldn’t tell her that. It wouldn’t impress her anyway, only a witch like Astoria would swoon over something like a silver spoon. 

“I’m surprised you take porridge,” Granger remarked as she cut into the eggs benedict. 

He swallowed the bite he’d taken before answering like a gentleman. “Mother always made me eat it as a child and I grew fond of it. The warmth of it really heats me through to the bone.”

It burned in him to correct her, to point out her prejudice, but Draco restrained himself. He had to play nice. She sipped her tea, her rosy lips kissing the edge of the cup. It made his mouth go dry.

“Are you enjoying your eggs benedict?” he asked before taking another bite of porridge. 

“Yes, it’s quite delicious. I assume a house elf made it,” she said, gazing at him accusingly. 

He only let his teacup tremble for a second before bringing it to his lips for a sip. She’d caught him off guard, but Draco should have been prepared for this topic to come up. He’d heard whisperings of her club “S.P.E.W.” at Hogwarts of which she was the leader and only member. 

“Before you start your crusade, these elves have been employed in the Underworld for centuries. They have been offered liberation before I was here and they declined. It’s all they’ve ever known. You’re welcome to ask them yourself,” he stated calmly. Granger looked down at her half-eaten breakfast.

“I understand. Even the Hogwarts elves argued with me… I appreciate you telling me, though.”

He nodded. “Something you may not know about me is that I’m learning to cook with only minor aid from magic.”

She looked up sharply and his pulse jumped at her astonished expression. Granger recovered quickly and said, “Perhaps, you and I could cook together sometime. My parents and I used to cook together often.”

Draco was smiling and said he’d like that before he even remembered that she’d _obliviate_d her parents. Because of his father’s cause, the cause he was forced to fight for. He had to look away from her, the tea starting to taste like ashes in his mouth. 

“We can’t change any of it, Draco. All we can do is move forward," Granger remarked.

His heart squeezed in his chest. Perhaps this could all work out with her; the swot was right as per usual...

***

Hermione wasn’t sure what daily life in the Underworld was like and asked Draco if it were possible to shadow him for the day. He said he had a few meetings, which would be boring for her to attend, but he promised to show her a place that would occupy her time. She smiled, very interested in what this place would be. 

“Oh, and before I forget, are there clothes you would prefer to wear here? Most of what you have in your closet are casual or pajamas,” Malfoy asked before they left his quarters.

She felt comfortable in what she was wearing now, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a few more options. The leggings Hermione was wearing were a bit old and faded. What would she need for the Underworld, though? She didn’t think there were events or anything she’d need other clothes for down here.

“I suppose another pair of leggings and jeans if that’s possible. I know they’re muggle clothes…”

Malfoy nodded. “No problem, Granger. Follow me.”

They seemed to be walking down the endless corridor away from his quarters and her own. She was starting to believe him about the great expanse of his domain. It seemed like they walked for at least a half-hour before reaching large, wooden double doors. The entrance was ornate, carved thousands of years ago to include the many areas and creatures of the Underworld. Hermione wanted to run her hands over the detailed design.

With a flourish of his hand, Hades opened the doors to reveal a circular room completely lined with books. Her jaw dropped. There was a wide spiral staircase that allowed a browser to see books on all sides and walk up and down. She peered down when they reached the landing and saw the books infinitely spiral down hundreds of feet. Then, she looked up and it had the same neverending effect. It was overwhelming and bloody brilliant!

Malfoy was smiling at her. A true, genuine smile. There was a surge of emotion, gratitude, that made her want to hug him, but she resisted. 

“I can trust you to be occupied here while I do some business?” he asked and she nodded vigorously, her eyes wandering the spines surround her.

He chuckled. “Call one of the elves when you’d like to go back to your rooms. It’s a long way back.”

Hermione was more excited than she’d been in a long time as he closed the door to the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys want to happen next? Let me know in the comments!


	14. Book Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has an appointment and leaves Hermione in the library. She falls asleep and has a startling dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my faithful commenters: emjrabbitwolf, Elisabeth226, Banditochronicles, and Flipflop77. Your comments and interest mean the world to me! Thank you to all my readers who light the fire that fuels my writing. 
> 
> Also, I don't own anything to do with Harry Potter and write this Dramione for free!

Draco sighed as he left Granger in the library. Part of him would love to see her browse the multitude of books, but he had a lot of work to do. Checking his watch, he saw he had exactly twelve minutes to make it to his appointment in his office. He summoned his broom and flew to make it on time.

“Draco, dear. I knew you’d be on time,” his mother said, tea service ready, the fine china poised at her lips.

“I appreciate your faith in my punctuality, Mother,” he drawled absently, adding three lumps of sugar to his milky tea. 

She smiled at him after taking a sip. “More like fate, dear. Speaking of, how is Persephone?”

Draco nearly scalded his mouth by taking a healthy gulp of tea before answering. “I left her in the library, so I assume she is feeling right at home.”

“And you’re getting along alright?” He nodded. 

“You know Daphne stopped by then?” 

“Of course. When do you believe Persephone will start fulfilling her role instead of browsing through books?” 

It took immense effort for him to not roll his eyes at his mother. “She has been Persephone for less than twenty-four hours. You can’t expect her to become Queen of the Underworld that quickly.”

His mother pursed her lips but didn’t argue. “Mother… do you know anything about the Eternal couples? Did they feel a pull towards one another? Is that normal or some kind of ancient magic?”

She looked like that cat who’d gotten the cream. “My dear boy, do I have to explain attraction to you?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s not… Nevermind! I called you here to ask for your help again. Granger came without clothing and requested some muggle clothing -- jeans and leggings -- that would make her more comfortable here.”

“I will see what I can do, Draco. Security is getting tighter at the Manor, so don’t expect me to visit any time soon, but I’ll send those muggle items along as soon as I can. And don’t worry so much, son. Everything will work out for the best,” she said, her warm embrace a rarity, but more welcome than ever.

***

Hermione must have fallen asleep reading because someone was stroking her face gently and saying her name. She woke up to the sensation of being carried. Her eyelids were still heavy, but from the feel of the chunky wool sweater, she knew it was Ron holding her close to his broad chest. 

“‘M so happy to see you. It seems like it’s been forever. I didn’t want to leave you…” she mumbled into his jumper. He smelled like earth and musk, but not sweaty teenage boy musty.

He bent down to kiss her forehead and then captured her lips in a gentle kiss. She moaned into his mouth. He’d finally gotten the hint! She didn’t want it to end. 

His tongue licked lightly at the seam of her lips and she let him explore her mouth, her body heating to his ministrations. Hermione had expected his kisses to be clumsy -- it’s not like he’d snogged anyone but Lavender Brown and that was always a messy display. Their mouths lost contact as he set her on her feet.

She clung to his shoulders as their tongues continued to tangle. Her stomach fluttered as he pressed her against a bookshelf, his hard body against her soft one. He bent his head to kiss down her jaw, nipping lightly at her skin. She ran a hand through his hair, expecting it to feel coarse and slightly curly. Instead, it was like silk; it reminded her of… Hermione’s eyes shot open to find platinum blonde in the place of fiery Weasley red!

And yet, she couldn’t deny that she was still aroused by Draco Malfoy’s touch. She allowed him to suck on her pulse point before pushing him away. This ended the dream and she woke to the empty Underworld Library with damp panties. 

Hermione tried to focus on reading again, but a few minutes later the opening doors revealed Hades himself. He seemed worn down, but smiled at seeing her. That was new. She couldn’t reconcile the old Draco Malfoy with Hades, King of the Underworld. 

“Enjoying the library?” he asked casually, browsing a nearby shelf. She couldn’t respond. Her dream vividly replaying in her mind. 

“What is it, Granger?” Now he was concerned at her lack of response.

“I keep having these dreams…” she blurted out. Fear flickered in his statuesque features. 

He asked hesitantly, “What kind of dreams?”

She blushed. There was no way she could tell him that he was pleasuring her in his dreams. He would have a conniption. Hermione buried her face in her hands. 

“Granger, this is important. Are they premonitions?” he demanded. 

“I can’t… I don’t know…” Then, she felt a tug in her mind and she fought it for as long as she could before her mind was bared to him fully. 

She couldn’t hide her thoughts from him. Draco Malfoy was a powerful Legilimens and Occlumens. He pulled away as quickly as he’d entered, but it didn’t make it any less intrusive.

His eyes were burning a hole into her as if he wished to stay and rove around in her mind. “Granger…. We have… to be… honest… if this is… going to work,” he said breathing hard. She could tell he was trying to control himself. 

Tears were in her eyes before she could stop them. “And that includes sifting through my mind, you fucking prat?!” she spat, tears running down her face.

“You weren’t saying anything! I had to know if you were seeing what I have!” Malfoy growled.

“What were you seeing?” 

His mouth clammed up forming a thin red line across his face. She lashed out: “You saw mine, tell me yours.”

“My aunt, Bellatrix, was torturing you. Cruciatus curse and a cursed knife carving ‘mud…’” She saw him swallow thickly. “It was a premonition, Granger.”

Hermione’s mind went blank. And yet, she was finally seeing everything clearly, putting everything together. He’d orchestrated it all except for the Persephone part if his own bewilderment was any indication. She finally saw Draco Malfoy for who he really was: a flawed hero. 

“You did all this… to save me from that? You thought you could protect me here instead of letting me go off with Harry and Ron…” 

He nodded, gazing at his dragon-hide leather shoes. She went over to him and now he was looking down at her. Hormones were still spiking her blood stream and Hermione made a rash, Gryffindor decision.

She pressed her lips to his. He froze, lips unmoving against hers. Hermione pulled away, embarrassed by her irrationality. Maybe she interpreted this situation wrong, but what could have motivated him besides compassion?

When Malfoy grabbed her curls, not roughly but enough to stop her from leaving his personal space, she gasped and he captured her lips like he had in her dreams. And this time she knew it was real and he actually wanted her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *drops cliffhanger and runs in the opposite direction* 
> 
> How do you feel about Hermione's reaction? I know it's a little OOC but it's helping the plot along...


	15. Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post this a day early so that cliffhanger wasn't too long! Contains a taste of lemony goodness.

Their mouths slanting over one another lit a burning passion in Draco Malfoy, Hades, King of the Underworld. He hadn’t been alive until then; it didn’t even compare to the fastest, most daring of Quidditch moves. He’d been a shade, barely aware of anything outside himself before kissing Hermione Granger, Persephone, his queen. 

Draco sucked gently on her sweet, full bottom lip and her groan jolted his cock even in its upright position. He wanted lay her on the table or press her against a bookshelf. His blood was singing for her, spiked with a lethal dose of adrenaline and oxytocin. Her soft yet firm body made him want to beg at her feet, grovel and promise her anything for more than just a taste of her. 

“Do you feel that?” he asked breathlessly, their foreheads resting against one another. It amazed him that she hadn’t shoved him away like she had in the dream. And yet, she’d had an intense, sensual dream about him, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, even in her subconscious that she wanted him too.

“Yes… is that natural?” Granger was also trying to catch her breath. 

He chuckled, couldn’t help himself. “No, Granger. You and I are not natural…” She sharply looked at him, bracing for him to reject her. “We’re pure magic. I’ve never felt that kind of surge, not even when I held my first wand…” 

She was blushing again. “You don’t think this is just the old gods, some ancient magic pulling us together?” It was as if she’d read his mind earlier.

“My mother didn’t seem to think there was such a thing.... If there was, then it could be in a book in this library.” She bit her lip and glanced at the thousands of books surrounding them. The candlelight made it quite romantic, he thought.

“Isn’t this what’s supposed to happen anyway?”

“Is that what you think?” he countered, hopeful that she’d say yes. Draco didn’t care for the reason, only that it was happening and he couldn’t be happier.

“I suppose… I’ll look into it later.” His stomach fluttered.

“Later?” It wasn’t like Hermione Granger, bookworm extraordinaire, to put off research, but maybe he didn’t know her that well. 

Her brown eyes pleaded with him, as if he’d object, but then she whispered into his ear. The slight brush of her lips made him shudder in anticipation. 

“Do what you did in the dream, Malfoy, please.”

He would do as his queen commanded. If Hermione Granger, Persephone, had dominion over anything, it was Draco Malfoy, Hades. Her request made him throb in his pants. 

His hands ran down her waist to the flare of her hips and grabbed her arse and lifted her. She obligingly wrapped her legs around his hips as he spun her toward the bookshelves. Draco kissed her swollen lips once before trailing kisses down her jaw and stopped at her ear.

“As you wish, Persephone.”

She quivered and he nipped his way down to her collarbone. He pressed his eager erection between her legs as she keened lightly as she had in the dream he’d seen. She tasted faintly of vanilla and it made his mind go fuzzy with desire. 

Her hips canted into his as Draco held her up against the bookshelves. “Can I touch your breasts, Hermione?” he asked huskily. 

“Yessss,” she sighed. He ran his thumb over her left breast and he could feel the nipple stiffen through her shirt and bra. She keened at the sensation. So responsive, his little queen. So perfect. 

“Do you want me to make you cum? I could, over your clothes.”

Her eyelids were heavy and pupils dilated. “Please, Malfoy.”

He shifted her so that her pelvis was aligned with his erection and he started rocking into her mons and clitoris. She returned the movements with alacrity, moaning in pleasure that her little nub was being subjected to. He shifted the neck of her jumper to gain access to her bra and teased one of her stiff nipples with his mouth. Her hand scraped across his scalp as he steadily pushed her to the edge of ecstasy. 

“You’re so hard…” she gasped as he pressed into her, the seam of her leggings providing more direct pressure. 

“Malfoy!” Granger cried as her orgasm hit.

She melted into him, boneless after her pleasurable release. He miraculously hadn’t cum in his pants, but he planned to wank to the memory later. Draco hoped there would be a repeat of this, if not a more  _ in-depth _ encounter. 

Her head lolled against his shoulder as he carried her back to her quarters. He didn’t mind the extensive walk as long as Granger was in his arms. Draco began to feel even more hopeful as he strode. Somehow, all his screw-ups had turned in his favor and he didn’t think he deserved it, but he couldn’t argue too much when it came to his queen. Still, he’d wanted her to call him by his given name when she came, but it was enough for now to touch her, pleasure her. 

Would she regret it in the morning?

Draco tucked her into bed with her clothes still on. He gave her a light kiss, but she grabbed his arm as he pulled away. “Stay,” she sleepily begged.

It pained him to say, “Not this time, Granger. I have some work to attend to. Listen to your body and sleep.” Draco pressed a soft kiss on her forehead and she sighed. 

Unfortunately, being King of the Underworld involved actual work as well as paperwork. He went back to his office to find Thanatos in his chair with his boots resting on his desk. Draco glared at him and sent Theo flying out of his chair with a wave of his hand. 

“Give me your report and get out,” Draco grumbled as he sat down.

Theo gave him a devilish grin. “I thought having little Miss Gryffindor here would lighten your spirits.”

“Her presence here hasn’t made you any less of a pain in mt=y arse, so no, it hasn’t lightened my mood,” Draco drawled.

Thanatos produced a scroll with his report and started to hand it over. He pulled it back as Draco reached for it. “Have you made a move yet?”

“As if I’d tell you!” Theo withheld the scroll. 

The torches flared in his office. He knew Theo wouldn’t leave until he got the dirt. 

“Fine, we kissed, alright?”

“That’s it? A kiss? What are we third years?” Thanatos taunted.

With a growl and clenched teeth, he said, “I got her off. Over her clothes. That’s all, you pervert!”

Theo dropped the scroll on his desk with a gleeful smile and left. For a straight hour, Draco pored over paperwork, including the poorly written report from Thanatos. And then, thoughts of her distracted him. 

Locking his door, he pulled out his neglected prick, which was still weeping for some action. Draco remembered how responsive and pliant she'd been, how she'd wanted him, begged him to stay in bed with her. He spilled himself with a drawn-out groan. Why hadn’t he stayed? He didn’t want to overwhelm her, didn’t want to push things too far too fast. 

Perhaps, this was the natural course of action. They would grow into love over the years… And then what? Would she acknowledge him after their time was up or even in the wizarding world? He shook his head. 

“One thing at a time, Draco,” he said to himself.


	16. Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Dramione interaction in this chapter as well as a confrontation between Draco and Lucius!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my lovely commenters from the last chapter --MythalGivesYouDreams, Elisabeth226, Banditochronicles as well as the numerous readers who gave kudos!

Hermione woke early, her body incredibly relaxed, limbs heavy. She felt foggy but in a got-enough-quality-sleep way. Peeling off her pajamas, she realized her knickers were nearly ruined with drying… cum.  _ Fuck. _

That tryst with Malfoy hadn’t been just a dream after all. Or, rather, a dream come true! Her clit throbbed at the memory of how hard he’d been pressing against her. No one but herself had ever made Hermione orgasm. With Viktor, it had been a lot of fumbling about in the nether regions that had her groaning in frustration rather than satisfaction. The Bulgarian was frustrated too, but he gave up and went back to snogging her like a rabid bulldog. 

What she did with Malfoy was the closest she’d gotten to having sex… And he hadn’t even taken her clothes off! The embarrassment inflamed her face and chest as she stepped into the shower. Hermione had been so brazen, so wanton. His confidence and desire had her begging him. She needed him to take control and Hermione Granger had never liked losing control.

Apparently, she’d throw herself at any wizard who wanted to save her from torture and invaded her mind with legilimency. The truth from Draco Malfoy had been unexpected and she wholeheartedly believed him. Hermione knew that while she didn’t like his invasion of her mind it had been necessary in some respects in case she had had some kind of similar premonition. And since it had come true, but only with Malfoy’s inside knowledge of her dream, was it still a premonition?

She wished there was someone to talk to about this quandary, but it was her and Draco and no one could know she was there. Not that she’d want to talk to just anyone about what happened, there was no way she could tell Harry and Ron about it and she wasn’t sure how to reach them without endangering them or herself. It was something to ask Malfoy or find out how to get a meeting with Kingsley if that were possible.

As she was toweling off, she heard the distinct sound of apparition into her bedroom. Hermione wrapped a robe around herself to investigate. A house elf in a pink, frilly tea towel was magically storing clothes in her expansive closet. 

“Hello, there,” she said kindly. The wide, green eyes turned to her, only slightly startled.

“Queen Persephone! The king has gots you more clothes,” the elf squeaked. 

She tried not to chuckle at the elf hanging leggings and folding jeans and managed to stifle it with a smile. “Thank you. What’s your name?”

“Liri, your highness. I must go now. Good day!”

At least Liri was “free” and hopefully a paid elf. Hermione wondered if she belonged to the Malfoy family or the Underworld as she shrugged on a soft sweater in cream and a pair of medium wash jeans. It was a wonderfully cozy outfit to go to the library to have a morning cup of tea and read…

Flashes of her sensual moment with Malfoy made her fuzzy sweater seem too warm as her face and neck flushed. Hermione wasn’t sure if she could go to that magnificent library without thinking about that transgression. Her mind and body had betrayed her perception of him, which had been changing, but years of bullying weren’t erased in a few days, in the span of an orgasm. She clenched her thighs together. 

She couldn’t live without libraries, so Hermione became determined to disassociate them with Malfoy. The long walk down the corridor seemed even longer by herself. And then, she heard noises from one of the doors, which she’d assumed was a broom closet. It was slightly ajar and she peeked through the opening. 

Her jaw dropped at the sight of a small-scale quidditch pitch with only one player, but the pieces of equipment seemed to be simulating a game around none other than Draco Malfoy. It seemed as though he was playing seeker as he chased the golden dot fizzing through the air. It didn’t help Hermione at all that Malfoy was shirtless, his pale torso filled out with bare lean muscle. He had track bottoms on and fingerless gloves as he zoomed about. 

Malfoy was almost as good as Harry on a broom, but he’d grown up with the sport and the art of flying. Hermione could barely control it despite her detailed research on the topic of broom magic. The height scared her, but Malfoy seemed at ease, his shaggy hair blowing about. She realized that he was determinedly flying after the golden snitch and was seconds away from catching it, his arms outstretched, palm and fingers open. And then, she saw the bludger’s trajectory aimed for his broom.

Hermione gasped loudly and he heard her and glanced over his shoulder, barely avoiding the bludger with a deft barrel roll and losing the snitch. She lowered her hands from her mouth, which she hadn’t realized were there, and watched him cancel the spell so the equipment soared towards its storage box. 

She expected anger on his face as he flew down to where she stood in the doorway, but he didn’t say anything. His cheeks were pink with exertion when he started approaching her. Malfoy seemed more surprised than anything to see her. 

“Granger,” he said in a rough exhale. 

“I’m sorry, Malfoy… I saw--”

“Thank you.”

She blinked at him. “What?”

He smirked at her and drawled, “I know you hate quidditch, Granger, and probably me, and it’s just like a Gryffindor to keep me from catching the snitch.”

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but he held his finger up. “And if you hadn’t done that, I would have been knocked flat on my face in the Underworld.”

“Oh, right… You’re welcome, then.” She felt uncomfortable receiving gratitude from Malfoy. 

He examined her as she tucked a stray behind her ear. “Why do you look so guilty, Granger?” Malfoy purred at her, his eyes still roving.

“I-I thought you’d be upset…” she said meekly. A genuine smile flashed across his face, white teeth and all. His lips closed over them quickly, pursed as if he’d tasted something sour, but she knew he wanted to resist such a blatant display of emotion. 

Why was Malfoy acting shy now? He’d always been closed off, but now he was being coy with her… Hermione bit her lip trying to rectify the Malfoy she knew and the one in front of her. 

Her eyes widened as she felt him lightly grip her chin. She released her lip to gasp at his sudden closeness and touch. The mercury depths swirling in his eyes told of the desire from the previous day. 

“Don’t worry this lip, Granger… It makes me want to worry it for you,” he rasped. 

Her stomach flipped. “I won’t, though, unless you want me to.” And then, he winked and let her go. 

Hermione Granger was stunned at this behavior. She should abhor it. And yet, for some reason, she didn’t. She should slap him or walk away or yell at him. But she stood there staring as he sent his broom to storage. 

“There is something wrong with me…” Hermione muttered as she finally found the will to move her feet back toward the endless corridor. 

***

_ Had he actually said that? Had the words left his lips?  _ Draco was trying to save face as he watched Granger walk out the door. He found himself following her automatically as she made her way down to the library. Her round arse was displayed in the denim as she walked. His stomach filled with manic pixies at the memory of making her cum against the bookshelves not twelve hours ago. Even after his stress release of quidditch in the morning hadn’t rid him of the compulsion to do whatever he could to make her want him. 

The noises she’d made echoed in his head as he made a sharp turn through a doorway, trying to put her out of sight and out of mind. He’d been unable to avoid his father’s invitation to tea that afternoon at the manor. It made his skin crawl to think of seeing the snake that invaded his home. Unavoidable, unfortunately.

Before he left, after checking in on operations and counts, Draco sent a memo to Granger to invite her to dine with him. At least, assuming she didn’t decline, he’d have something to look forward to after visiting his father. 

Draco was glad he had a light breakfast so as to not have his stomach roiling before being subjected to the Death Eaters in his ancestral home. When he arrived via apparition, Tinky the house elf was waiting to take his cloak and escort him to the drawing room. 

As soon as he entered, the breath was knocked from him and his vision swam. The dream about Granger… it would have happened in this room. Her blood-curdling screams would have echoed and intermingled with his aunt’s cackling. She was safe now, at least. He recovered, his breathing returning to normal when his father strutted through from the powder room. 

Lucius looked exhausted: eyes heavy and red-rimmed, and yet the look in them was menacing. He looked haunted, hunted, and feral. Gone was the regal man who he’d aspired to be growing up. His father examined Draco for any sign of weakness, anything he could pick and prod and admonish. As a trained Occlumens, he set his mask in place and began doctoring his tea: two sugars, splash of cream. 

His father sat in the antique armchair to his left. “How is everything on the homefront, Father?”

“I assume it’s been more fulfilling and entertaining than the Underworld,” Lucius snarled. 

Rather than being on the offensive, Draco was composed. “It is rather boring, but I must do my godly duty,” he drawled before sipping his tea. 

“Speaking of your duty.” Draco miraculously refrained from cringing. “Ms. Greengrass told her father that you sent her packing back to Hogwarts.”

He smirked. “Father, you should know better than anyone that it’s improper courting to be alone with a pureblooded witch.”

His father’s steely eyes flashed. “And as the only heir to the Malfoy and Black families, you should be considering and solidifying your future.”

“She’s barely fifteen, Father! I’m only seventeen. We have our whole lives ahead of ourselves after the Dark Lord triumphs.” 

Lucius sneered regally. “And while you play Hades in that Merlin-forsaken Hell, I’m up here doing His bidding. I’m doing the real work, so show some respect, Draco.”

He bowed his head into his tea. “Apologies. I did not mean--”

“I don’t care what you meant, son!” his father growled dangerously. “Do as you’re told, as you’re expected to do.” 

“Yes, Father.” He’d always looked up to Lucius and had wanted to be his mirror image throughout his entire childhood until now. Now, he saw right through the shell of the man in front of him. 

They sipped their tea in frigid silence. Draco wished his mother was here to stave off the animosity his father incited, but these days he didn’t think anything calmed Lucius Malfoy. And so, it was just father and son…

Alarm bells started ringing in his head as he felt the invasion into his mind. Fortunately, only his family were in the front of his mind, anything secretive locked up tightly. And yet, Lucius’ barrage split straight through a crack in his defense -- probably from the toll this room had taken on him -- as the attack broke the lock and key on his most recent indiscretion. Draco pulled up a shield and a deep, cleansing breath forced his father out of his mind. 

Lucius looked wary as their eyes met to stare angrily at one another. He wasn’t sure his father saw anything, but he waited for any baiting lines or indication that he’d found something. A minute later, his father doubled over, clutching his left forearm before he could say anything else. 

The Malfoy patriarch hissed and stood at the Dark Lord’s summoning. Draco stood as well, knowing he’d be dismissed. He was glad for it; the manor was now tainted with Voldemort’s cursed stench. Lucius summoned his Death Eater mask and stood up straight with his cane braced. 

“Good day, Father,” he bit out as politely as he could.

As Draco turned toward the door to the foyer, Lucius spoke in a clipped tone. “Don’t think that your dalliance with any nymphs or lesser goddesses will prevent you from fulfilling your duty. Tread carefully, Draco.” His stomach sank with every clang of his father’s cane on the wood floor. 

At least he hadn’t seen Granger, Draco thought with rye satisfaction. Some residual emotions associated with his secrets had leaked from the temporarily broken lock, though. Otherwise, his father wouldn’t have picked up anything at all. He’d have to focus on improving his Occlumency further and knew he would have to talk to Severus about it soon.

Either that or he had to resist his temptation for Granger. But how could he when they’d have to be married eventually? A headache formed behind his eyes as he apparated back to the Underworld to prepare for his dinner with Persephone. 


	17. Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING - Mentions of torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge shout out to my repeat commenters: MythalGivesYouDreams, Elisabeth226, Banditochronicles! Your support means a lot to me, and thank you to all those who have left kudos. Let me know if you're still with me on this!

Why was there a flutter in her core when she accepted Malfoy’s dinner invitation? Oh right, because Hermione Granger was going insane. She’d now been pampered, given unlimited access to the Underworld’s vast library, and dry-humped into a blissful orgasm in said library. What was next? Only marrying the Hades who happened to be her former schoolyard bully!

What was Malfoy to her now? Fiancé? Suitor? Her king? All the labels made her nipples tighten and then the unbidden memory of him dominating her, his hard body and arousal moving against her.  _ Fuck. _

The worst part was that she wanted it. Hermione Granger wanted Draco Malfoy pressed up against her, learning how she liked to be touched, exploring her desires, how far she’d be willing to go for him. It was partially humiliating and stimulating. 

With that, she distracted herself by starting to research the relationships between gods and goddesses as well as any connections between the myths and wizardkind. The hours of scouring books like  _ The Multitude of Mythical Marriages _ and  _ Zeus: the Siring God _ flew by even though it left her no more knowledgeable about her attraction to Malfoy than when she’d begun. Before she knew it, it was almost time for dinner with Malfoy. 

While she knew she shouldn’t primp herself for him, Hermione knew she should probably wash away the dust and ink from her body and hair after spending so much time in the library. It was her one ritual from Hogwarts that she wanted to continue now that she had regular access to a washroom. A quick soak would do wonders for her whirring mind!

She added vanilla, honey, and lavender bubble bath to the hot water after her extensive walk back to her quarters. In the surreal warmth, Hermione fell asleep with her head resting on the plush bath pillow. She was floating in the dream, an effortless existence. And then, she was falling, falling, falling….

Hermione slammed onto something hard, forcing the breath from her lungs. She opened her eyes once she recovered, feeling the unforgiving, wood floorboards rigid against her back. There was a ceiling above her, somewhere she’d never been, light fixtures of some sort flickering around her. The light was soft, almost ominous and she found that she couldn’t move a muscle. 

She felt petrified like she had been in second year. Trying not to panic, she tried to look around, but there was nothing but the hammering of her heart. And then Hermione heard:

_ Click. _

_ Clack. _

_ Click. _

_ Clack. _

_ Click.  _

_ Clack. _

Like hammering nails into a coffin, the steps vibrated in her ears as they made their way across the floor. They were coming towards her. There was a gleeful cackle and then all she saw was the wild, black, curly hair and deranged face of Bellatrix Lestrange. 

_ “You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!” _

“Crucio!” And then simultaneously her body was electrocuted, frozen, and set ablaze. She screamed and bolted up in the bath. 

Disoriented, it took a minute to remember where she was. The bath was now cold. Shivering from shock and the water, Hermione barely made it to the floor before sinking to the tile. She felt like she was going to pass out. What was the elf’s name? Lara? Lira?

“Liri!” she called desperately. 

A few seconds later, a pop announced the house elf’s arrival. “My queen!” Liri screeched as she summoned a towel and wrapped Hermione in it. The warming charm the elf cast on her did wonders, but her nerves were shot. 

“C-calming d-draught, p-please,” Hermione requested through chattering teeth. 

The house elf disappeared momentarily and tipped the potion into her mouth as she sat huddled on the tile floor. A wave of relaxation spread through her veins and she felt almost as wonderful as she had before the nightmare. Hermione forced herself to take deep breaths and shut out how real the dream seemed. Was this the same premonition Malfoy had about her? Did this mean that it could still happen?

“Thank you so much, Liri. I think I’m fine now, I must dress for dinner.”

“Queen wants help?” the elf asked, eyes wide and pleading.

Hermione nodded. It pleased the house elf to help her, so she would grant it that much. The relief spread through her body as she walked to the closet. Her muscles were sore, though. It was as if she’d been frozen with every cell in her body tensed.

Liri took Hermione to where she was meeting Malfoy for dinner. The view took her breath away as he pulled a chair out for her to sit at the small table. His presence calmed her further, more than she’d like to admit. 

“That is Elysium, the place for the distinguished dead, among them heroes, demigods, and the righteous,” Hades explained before taking a sip of sparkling wine.

The small island was just across the river from them, surrounded on the other side by the ocean. Flourishing trees and fauna were visible along with the brighter shades who dwelled there. The sea sparkled in response to the ethereal glow surrounding Elysium.

Hermione had to tear her eyes away from the vista to focus on the light, brothy soup in front of her. It was the perfect start to the meal after what had happened earlier. She tried to stop her hand from shaking as she dipped it in the soup, but couldn’t stop the tremor.

Dark, silver eyes examined her. “Are you alright, Granger?” 

“I-I’m… not,” she forced herself to be honest with him. Setting her spoon down to rest in the steaming bowl, she clasped her hands tightly in her lap and looked at him. 

Concern etched itself into his pale forehead. “I think I had the same premonition you had… with your aunt and it was… the most excruciating pain I’ve ever felt. I fell asleep in the bath before this... that’s when it happened.” 

The lines of confusion and worry deepened in his face as she tried to breathe, tried not to let the nightmare surface in her mind. “I should teach you some basic Occlumency,” he said, his eyes roving her face. “It’ll help so you can push it to the back of your mind, so you don’t relive it unless…”

“I fall asleep?" she interrupted. "We can’t just ignore this now, Malfoy. What if it could still happen even after all you’ve done? I don’t want to experience it again whether it’s real or in my head!” she yelled at him, tears welling in her eyes. 

Hermione turned to gaze back to Elysium so he wouldn’t see how scared she was. He heard his chair scrape against the stone slab beneath them, but kept her eyes on the island of peace and tried to blink her tears away. Then, her view was obscured by the buttons on his heather gray oxford before he was on his knees in front of her and she couldn’t look away from his angular face and liquid mercury eyes. 

His hands were as cold as hers, but he took them in his larger ones. “Granger, I won’t ever let that happen to you. Never. I don’t know if the possibility is gone, but I will do whatever is in my power to stop that from happening.”

Her chin wobbled. “You really do mean it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he answered confidently. “And that’s why no one can know you’re here, that you’re my Persephone.”

Her core throbbed at his possessiveness,  _ my Persephone. _ Malfoy’s eyes searched hers, a mysterious expression, like the combination of worry and desire. If Hermione didn’t know any better she’d say it was love. 

Malfoy stood and seemed conflicted before pressing a kiss to her forehead and sitting back down to his own soup. She felt a little calmer, successfully taking in mouthfuls of soup and warming her body and soul. By the time their main course came, a heavenly plate of Coq au Vin, Hermione felt her strength return in full.

“So you said you had meetings today?” she asked him. His hand froze on its way to bring his fork to his mouth. To anyone else, it would be nearly imperceptible, but she saw the hesitation.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Was it for  _ him _ ?”

“No, Hermione. It was with my father. He––” Malfoy stopped, knuckles white around his fork. 

She wiped her mouth with the cloth napkin, intrigued. “What happened?”

Hades shook his head as if to clear it. “He broke through my Occlumency, a moment of weakness and he knows… he knows there’s someone in my life in addition to me spurning Astoria.”

“Someone in your life?” 

He fixed her with an intense stare. “He doesn’t know it’s you, Granger. But he felt… how I feel about you.”

Hermione held her breath, but when he wasn’t forthcoming, she prompted, “How do you feel… about me?”

Malfoy drained his glass of wine and flexed his hands. He looked like he wanted to get up and leave. His eyes were focused on his half-eaten chicken. 

“I can’t… I don’t exactly know… But I know I want you every second of the day. I want to care for you and hold you in my arms, I want to kiss you, p-pleasure you, and I want to protect you. And I don’t want to share you with anyone. I want you to be mine… but you can’t.”

Slightly shocked at the confession, Hermione had to ask, “Why not?”

She thought he must have gotten whiplash from the speed that he lifted his head to meet her eyes. His mouth dropped open, eyes wide. Draco Malfoy was speechless.

“I told you, Malfoy. I told you that we needed to bury the past, that we needed to get to know each other. And if we do that, as fully as we can, with time, I think I could want to be yours… I wanted you last night, after all,” she explained, ears and cheeks pink with the admission.

He shut his gaping mouth, teeth clacking together. Malfoy blinked owlishly at her before saying, “Alright.”

She swallowed thickly and nodded in agreement. “What were you researching in the library earlier?” he asked casually.

“I was trying to find something about our roles if they drew us together or not, but I couldn’t. Not yet, anyway.”

Malfoy hummed in response. “Do you think our feelings, or rather mine right now, are real?” 

She felt his eyes boring into her forehead as he waited for her response. “I think so, but is there any way to know what’s real? After all, it boils down to the chemistry in our brains––”

“Chemistry?” He raised a pale eyebrow.

“It’s a muggle science that’s similar to potions. It’s all about how different chemicals or substances interact with one another,” Hermione explained.

She watched him chew thoughtfully. “I’ll have to see if there’s a text on  _ chemistry _ in the library.”

Hermione smiled, “Yes, I rather think you’d be interested in it. You were always fond of potions, right?”

Malfoy smiled back at her. “Yes, and not just because Snape is my godfather. Potions just always made sense to me, in a way.”

“I understand that completely.” 

***

Draco felt a bit fragile after confessing his feelings for her, but he hadn’t felt this hopeful in a long time after she said she might be able to reciprocate them in the future. They continued to speak about their interests, the classes they’d had together, and other hobbies. With every thought shared, he felt himself falling deeper for her, yearning for her more and more.

He restrained himself, though. Even when she sucked the chocolate from her lips and fingers from the mousse for dessert. His trousers were getting uncomfortably tight. Draco adjusted himself under the table and finished his glass of port. The fortified wine made his head a little fuzzy, but it might keep the thoughts of licking chocolate mousse off his queen’s body at bay. 

“Liri,” Granger called before wiping her mouth. 

The elf popped in, “My queen?”

“Please give my sincerest compliments to the chefs. Everything was perfect!” Liri quivered in excitement and promised to fulfill the request.

Like a perfect gentleman, Draco pulled her chair out as Granger stood and held out his arm to escort her back to her chambers. Apparition allowed him to get her to her door faster and hopefully lead to a kiss of some sort. 

“Here you are, Granger,” he purred.

“You know you could call me by my given name, right?” she teased him.

He smirked and leaned closer to her so her back nearly leaned against the door. 

“Are you going to invite me in for a nightcap,  _ Hermione _ ?” He could smell the combination of scents lingering on her skin that she must have used in the bath. 

She giggled and it did funny things to his stomach. “I believe you might have had enough to drink already,  _ Draco _ .” 

He bit his tongue hard to stifle his groan at his name on her lips. “I’ll invite you in, though.”

Draco kept himself from resting his fingers on her lower back as they entered her sitting room. He had to be more careful. He’d already admitted everything to her, but that didn’t mean she wanted him eye-fucking and touching her every time they were in the same room. 

“Tea?” she asked, magically putting the kettle on. He nodded, still immersed in restraining his thoughts. The booze was definitely getting to him. 

He closed his eyes as he unceremoniously slouched onto her settee. His eyes felt heavy, but his body felt like it was floating. Vaguely, Draco recognized Granger asking him about milk and sugar… before he awoke to a dark room.

Groggily, he realized he’d woken up due to the blood-curdling screams coming from Granger’s bedroom. Draco sprang into action, grabbing his wand and lighting his path to where she thrashed against the covers on her bed. She was having a night terror… most likely the same she’d had before their dinner.

“MALFOY! DRACO!” she shrieked. He had to do something!

“Granger… er Hermione! I’m here. Wake up, it’s only a dream,” he cooed uneasily. Her brow furrowed and she stopped trying to fight her duvet. Draco hadn’t wanted to touch her in case she thought someone was actually attacking her and she reacted violently.

“Hermione?” he tried again. She blinked her eyes and looked bewildered at seeing him there. Draco could see the faint sheen of sweat on her forehead. 

Her chest was heaving as she tried to calm down, her brown eyes still wide with terror. “D-Draco? What… Why were you…”

He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I must have dozed off during our nightcap, I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “N-no, in the dream… you were just standing there, frozen while she-she…” Her face crumpled as her voice cut off. “You didn’t help me!” she sobbed and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her shaking body.

Granger was all but in his lap now as he tried to grasp what she was saying. In the dream, he hadn’t helped her… He remembered that in his own dream he’d watched the torture. Draco couldn’t understand why, though. Why hadn’t he done something?

“I’m so sorry, Hermione. I’m sorry… I don’t know…” he mumbled into her hair, smoothing his hand down the riotous curls. She clung to him like a buoy on the open sea. Draco shed a tear for her as he laid them both down to rest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the characters and world of HP belong to JK Rowling including the words from Bellatrix’s dialogue from the Deathly Hallows!


	18. Digging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Occlumency leads to intimacy for Draco and Hermione.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: LEMONS AHEAD
> 
> And thank you to my dedicated commenters: MythalGivesYouDreams, Elisabeth226, crimsinsky, and Glittergrump!

Hermione woke up in a tangle of limbs in the middle of the night again. One of Malfoy’s legs was under her and one was wedged between her thighs, her head was pillowed on his bicep and the other arm was draped around her waist where his fingers tantalizingly close to her clothed breast. She attempted to move to use the loo and that’s when she felt it: his steel-hard morning wood pressed against her bum. 

He moaned deeply as she tried to wiggle free, nearly grinding herself on him as she had less than forty-eight hours before. Her legs collapsed immediately as she climbed out of bed. Glinting gray eyes greeted her from above. Hermione’s face felt swollen from crying and she was sure her hair was a rat’s nest. 

“You should drink this,” his sleepy voice indicated a vial on the nightstand. “It’s a restorative potion.”

Hermione didn’t feel like arguing and robotically crawled to grab the potion. She downed it and felt the tingling of its effects from her hair to her toenails. Still wobbling, she struggled to her feet. A strong arm shot out to grab her as she almost teetered over. 

“I’m fine!” she lashed out, immediately regretting it when she saw the guilt in his eyes.

“I want to help you, Granger. Can you do something for me?”

Hermione blinked at him as if he’d suddenly turned into a hippogriff. “What?”

“Close your eyes and think about digging a hole, one that’s at least five meters long, three meters wide, and ten meters deep. Breathe steadily while you do it,” Malfoy instructed her gently, his hand still supporting her elbows.

Her eyes fluttered shut and tried to imagine digging the hole. It must have been some kind of Occlumency trick. She knew he was quite accomplished. 

It took her a few minutes to fully dig it as he helped her count her breaths in and out. “Now, shove that dream, that nightmare, into the hole and bury it. Imagine your exhales as the sound of the dirt piling on top of that memory.” 

Hermione felt her mind and muscles start to relax, slowly but surely. Her chocolate eyes met concerned silver ones. She managed a small smile of gratitude and leaned in to kiss Malfoy’s cheek.

She gasped as he misjudged her aim and his lips met hers. His kiss was soft, apologetic. Hermione sighed and returned it. Moments later, she realized that she was now straddling his lap as he sat on her bed. Now she was flushed, her heart racing from the intimacy. 

In that moment, Hermione realized that she wanted this; she wanted to be close to him. Her nightmare didn’t matter as much as the reality of him helping her in the here and now. He grounded her. She started rocking her hips as his hands explored her, never seeming to linger in any one place. Breathless, Hermione let him kiss down her neck, his tongue sweeping her collarbone and the tops of her breasts in the camisole. 

She loved the way his fingers squeezed her waist hard enough to bruise and how his hips stuttered into hers. While he was busy worshiping her neck, she reached between them to feel his sizable cock through his briefs. Malfoy’s teeth clamped down on her shoulder as he let out a strangled moan. The head poked out at her through the flap and she swirled the wetness at the tip around. His hips bucked into her hand. 

“Hermione,” he breathed. His eyes were the color of liquid mercury, his eyes desiring more of her, but he said torturously, “We shouldn’t… not yet.”

She was taken aback. “Why not?” Hermione asked angrily, pulling at her bottom lip with her teeth.

Hermione thought he’d relented when he kissed her and sucked hard on the lip she’d been biting. He pressed her back into the bed, delighting her in giving in to her demand. Malfoy was heavy and powerful on top of her; she felt a rush between her thighs. 

“I can’t give you this, Granger. Not yet,” he explained in a deep voice, stroking himself over his pants. “Because I am the king... and you deserve to be treated like my queen.”

His eyes glinted, a wicked smile tugging at his lips. She was quivering with want, nipples budding against the thin fabric, her knickers soaked. Malfoy knelt on the floor between where her legs hung off the bed, his lips nipping at her thighs closer and closer to her throbbing core. A moan tore from her throat as he sucked a bruise into her inner right thigh, his soft hair teasing her sensitive skin. 

“Malfoy… please!” She finally felt the tip of his nose brush lightly against her swollen bud through her knickers. 

He chuckled as she felt his fingers pull the sides of her underwear down and she helped him by lifting her hips. “It’s Draco, darling,” he drawled, correcting her. “Soaked already for me, eh?” 

Hermione knew she was probably leaking onto the bed. And that was before he even touched her _ there _. Malfoy took a tentative lick and her hips rose as she gasped at the sensation. No one had touched her this way before. It was rapturous.

One of his large hands splayed over her lower abdomen to hold her down. His wide shoulders made sure that she was spread wide open for him. “Gorgeous,” he muttered and she blushed. Hermione hadn’t realized genitalia could be beautiful, but the compliment heightened the experience for her.

Her eyes rolled back when he traced her pussy lips with the tip of his tongue and then started lapping at her in earnest. She struggled in his hold, not sure of what she wanted, but that she wanted him to continue pleasuring her. He was humming against her pussy and she was ready to fall off the edge of oblivion when he sucked hard on her clit. A scream wrenched itself from her throat as her body spasmed with the most intense orgasm in her life. 

Hermione finally opened her eyes to find him leaning over her, chin and lips dripping with her juices. He wordlessly conjured a handkerchief and wiped the excess. Despite her body’s protests, she leaned up to kiss him, tasting herself, curiosity getting the better of her. Malfoy moaned as she sucked at the flavor on his tongue. 

“Do you like the way I taste?” she asked as they came up for air.

He smirked at her, but not in the annoying Malfoy way. “You’re becoming my favorite flavor.” His voice was deep and husky. 

“Can I taste you?” She saw his eyes dilate at that.

He rolled onto his back and pushed his waistband down far enough so that his large cock and heavy balls were on display. She appraised him and wondered how she’d fit that in her mouth let alone her pussy. At that thought, her core clenched around nothing.

“Can you tell me…” she stopped, unsure of how to phrase the question. His eyes lit up in amusement. For a second, Hermione thought he might make fun of her.

“I’ll give you some instructions, Granger.” She subconsciously liked that he had more experience, that he would tell her what to do. Hermione wanted to please him as much as he’d pleased her.

He gave his member a stroke and then grabbed her hand to replace his. Her fingers didn’t meet all the way around his girth. Malfoy’s chest rumbled as she gave him a squeeze. His eyes were dark with desire. “Now, try licking the tip first, see how I taste.”

She explored the red head of him with her tongue and his powerful cock twitched in her hand. That must have been a good sign. And then, she tasted the bead of moisture leaking. It was salty and earthy and it turned her on. 

“You can give it a suck like a lolly, but mind your teeth,” he instructed. She hesitantly wrapped her mouth around the fleshy tip and created suction. Her tongue felt strange just limp, so she traced the opening. Malfoy moaned throatily, his defined abdominal muscles flexing. 

“Good, yes!” he praised. “Now, if you want to do more, slide your head up and down and swirl your tong--” Hermione complied and he slid his hand into her hair. He didn’t push her down, but massaged her scalp as she worked at sucking and moving over him. 

She’d forgotten that she was naked from the waist down and kneeling until he dragged a finger through her sodden folds. Hermione moaned around his cock and had to release him from her mouth. Her jaw hurt a little from sucking and opening so wide, but the look in his eyes made it worth the discomfort.

“Fuck, you really do learn quickly.” She gave him a wicked grin. “Did that turn you on more?” he asked, fingers exploring her nether lips that were begging for attention.

“Yessss!” she hissed as he plunged a long finger into her. 

Hermione watched Malfoy stroke himself as he fingered her. He reached deeper than her own fingers could. She was wet enough to accept another finger as she bucked against them. Malfoy drove them both to their own climaxes. Hermione clenched around his fingers, choking on her own moans. He spilled onto his stomach with a tortured groan.

They lie side by side trying to catch their breath. She shivered as he pulled his fingers out of her pussy. It was foreign for her to have something other than her own fingers inside her, but Malfoy’s fingers and mouth had given her more pleasure than she’d known what to do with. She watched him spell away the spunk from his abdomen, but he conjured a damp, soft cloth for her to clean up with. 

Slightly embarrassed, Hermione scrambled out of the bed on weak legs to the restroom. Before she made it a few feet, though, his hand stopped her. She was frazzled and looked at him in confusion. His eyes were glinting but only half open in the post-coital reverie. 

“Thank you, Granger. For giving me a chance,” he drawled. She bobbed her head in a quick nod and broke out of his light hold. 

Hermione took her time cleaning up, using the toilet, washing her hands, and she fully expected him to be gone when she re-entered the bedroom. She’d donned a robe and she walked in on Malfoy stepping into his trousers. He was about to button them when she spoke.

“Would you stay with me? In case…” she trailed off, swallowing the memory.

“Only if you want me to, Hermione.” He examined her cautiously.

Hermione nodded and he transformed his trousers into sleep bottoms. He left his chest bare and gestured for her to climb under the mussed bed clothes. She lay on her back and he did the same, both staring up at the blank ceiling. Something about the mixture of their breathing lulled her to sleep. Her muscles were sated, heavy as she sank into the depths of her now peaceful mind.


	19. Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected visitor comes to the Underworld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to MythalGivesYouDreams, Elisabeth226, and Banditochronicles for commenting on the last chapter and other chapter before it!

Draco woke with Hermione in his arms once again. Her head was tucked into his shoulder, which was now numb from the weight of her head, and her arm was wrapped around his waist bisecting the scar Potter had given him six months before. She smelled like the bath still, but also like sex and something else. Something floral and unidentifiable. Did she smell like Persephone, goddess of vegetation and plant fertility? 

With her soft form molded to him, Hades was starting to become aroused, his morning wood becoming unbearable. Couldn’t he just be satisfied for a while with how she’d responded and welcomed him hours ago? His body wasn’t listening, apparently.

He knew he had to burn off some steam and had the itch to run. Running along the bank of the Styx was a relaxing pastime when he was feeling cooped up. Carefully, he removed himself from Granger’s grasp. She only stirred slightly. Draco summoned his running shoes and clothes and quickly dressed in her bathroom. 

As he quietly exited the bathroom, he tried to sneak out of her bedroom. “Draco?”

“It’s alright, love, just go back to sleep,” he whispered gently as he saw her blinking at him. Silently, he celebrated her calling him by his given name. 

“Where are you going?” The witch sat up, eyes still heavy in the darkness.

“For a run, just to clear my head, get the blood pumping.” Or rather, stop it flowing to a particular part of him. 

She stared at him for a second. “Can I come with you?”

He wasn’t expecting that offer. Shrugging, he summoned another pair of running shoes from his closet and magically adjusted the size for her feet. Hermione slowly made her way to her closet. 

Her eyes were lit with curiosity, with the challenge, as they left her quarters. “Sure you can keep up, Granger?” he teased as he started to jog down the long hallway. 

“I may not have your long legs, Malfoy, but I can run fast enough,” she huffed as they jogged. 

He winked, catching her eye before he deftly darted through a door to the left and saw her eyes widen. Draco took off in a full-on sprint for the thirty seconds it took to get through the exit to the riverside. He slowed down, swiveling his head to look for her behind him and, for a second, he thought he’d lost her, which hadn’t been his intention.

As she burst through the doorway, Draco felt giddy and smiled maniacally. Hermione had that determination in her eyes, a fire that lit in her brown eyes so they were closer to amber. She barreled past him, but the sandy river edge made her slow down. 

He caught up easily. “Think you could lose me, Malfoy?”

“Not at all, Granger. Just wanted to test your speed.” She grinned at him for a second and then looked at their surroundings.

The Styx sparkled darkly, its water roiling and foaming as it flowed in impossible directions. It reminded Draco of Hermione’s hair: the untamed curls made his hands itch to bury themselves in the sheer volume of them. He wanted to tug on them as she bounced on his… Draco shook his head and tried to focus on the burn in his lungs and thighs -- wasn’t that why he had wanted to go running in the first place?

She was a distraction. He especially regretted allowing her to join him as he noticed her breasts bouncing along with her curls.  _ Fuck _ . Draco had to close his eyes for a second to get the image out of his head. 

Next thing he knew, he was on the ground. “Draco? Are you okay?” Part of him was glad he’d landed face first in the sand because then he couldn’t see the concern on her face.

Peeling himself up and dusting himself off, Draco grumbled at her as she fussed. “Just stop it, Granger!” 

“Well excuse me for caring, Malfoy!” she spat back and turned toward the river. The view of her round arse in the leggings made him watch to stuff sand into his eyes. He glared at her backside for a beat before sighing.

“I’m sorry, Granger. I wasn’t prepared… I don’t know how… Argh!” Draco struggled to find the right words, running his hands through his hair as if he could claw them out of his brain. 

“I don’t think either of us really expected this…” Hermione offered, just as puzzled as he was about this situation. 

He smirked at her and her brow furrowed further. “Oh come on, Granger. You could have expected it from me, a teenage boy trapped in the Underworld with the dead, and then a living witch comes along with great… assets along with the fact that she’s alive.”

“Trapped? I think it’s me who’s trapped with you, Malfoy,” she shot back, though it seemed playful to him. Flirtatious, even. 

He tucked a stray curl behind her ear and purred, “Oh but, my dear, you weren’t complaining about that earlier this morning.”

Hermione flushed, but she endeavored to say, “If I remember correctly, you were the one with reservations about said interaction.” 

“Trust me, love, I would like nothing more to be trapped beneath you, but I was raised to be a gentleman.” He curled his lip lasciviously at the thought.

Her lips were parted, but she scoffed instead, baiting him with, “A gentleman? Really? I could stand to see some more of these manners, Malfoy. You surely didn’t showcase them in school.” 

Draco tried not to let that strike a chord with him. From the look of remorse on her face, his guilt had shown. 

“I’m sorry,” they said simultaneously.

He stepped closer to her so she had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes. His thumb and forefinger cradled her jaw. She looked at him through her lashes.

“Last night meant a lot to me and I want you to know that. You let me comfort you even though I was part of your distressing dream. You trusted me more than most in your position would, so thank you.”

She grinned at him. “Thank you for being there--” He cut her off with a kiss, suckling her bottom lip. 

His lips were barely touching hers as he promised, “I will always be there for you, Hermione.”

This time, she initiated the kiss, her tongue tangling with his. He moaned into her mouth as her body pressed flush against his. Draco’s body started to respond to hers as he nipped at her neck. His hands trailed down to her waist and itched to slide down to her bum. Her small hands were tracing his shoulder blades and one slid into his hair, which was damp from perspiration. 

“This is why I need to go for a run this morning… I don’t trust myself not to ravish you,” he growled into her ear. She clung to him even tighter. 

“My, my, what do we have here? A public display of affection between our King and Queen. How positively sinful…” 

Thanatos’ voice sent a bucket of ice down his spine as he let go of Hermione. He was angry, somewhat at himself for being so public, even if it was only in front of the shades. Of course, Thanatos had to find him there, though. It was a cosmic joke. 

As he turned toward his inferior, his stomach lurched. Standing with Theo was Severus Snape, his godfather and the former Hades. He felt Hermione stiffen beside him. 

The potions master was looking down his long nose at them. “I’d asked Thanatos here to show me what you’ve been working on, but it seems we have coincidentally stumbled upon it.” His godfather’s dark eyes examined Hermione with distaste. 

“Hello, professor. How are you?” Hermione found her voice before him, his courageous little Gryffindor.

“Fine, Miss Granger. Nott, escort Miss Granger to wherever she desires to go. Draco, please come with me.” Unexpectedly, Snape walked in the opposite direction of Hades’ office. 

Draco had no choice but to follow and leave Hermione with Theo. He dreaded that interaction as much as he didn’t want to have this conversation with his godfather after what he’d seen. Snape didn’t speak until they stopped in front of a valley.

“This is the Vale of Mourning,” his godfather explained. The plants looked burnt, scorched around them. “I came here while I was Hades to see if Lily would visit me. She never did.”

“Lily?” Draco asked, confused by the lonely, celibate wizard’s speech.

“Lily Evans Potter. The Chosen One’s mother. She was a muggleborn much like Miss Granger: intelligent, powerful, and kind. And I loved her but I couldn’t save her from death.”

Draco gawped at him like a fish out of water. “You wanted to save her… but you’re on the Dark Lord’s side!” Snape gave him a sidelong glance.

“Clearly you aren’t letting that get in the way of your romance either, Draco,” his godfather retorted, but Draco could feel the emotion behind it, his grief. 

“Right, well, this was the best chance of saving her.”

Snape smirked at him. “And when your little secret comes out to the wizarding world, what then? You think the Dark Lord will forgive you? That he’ll let you have the muggleborn all to yourself, happily ever after?” 

Draco grimaced. “Boy, you did the wrong thing. You had the right intentions, but as the muggle proverb says, ‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions.’ You’re already in Hell, but once the Dark Lord finds out… you won’t be able to save her without sacrificing all you’ve worked for.”

Anger simmered to a boil in him. “And that’s what you did? You let her die so that your precious Dark Lord wouldn’t know you loved someone he thought was lower than dirt? I’m surprised it wasn’t you that betrayed--”

_ Slap! _ His cheek stung, cutting off his words. “Don’t you  _ ever _ say I betrayed her. I did everything I could for her!” 

“What am I supposed to do?” Draco asked, defeated, his face sore.

Snape pursed his lips, eyes coldly appraising him. “Keep her hidden here for as long as you can. Persuade her to hide once she returns to the mortal realm in the spring. I will do what I can to prevent any unannounced visits to the Underworld by our fellow Death Eaters. You better make sure Thanatos keeps his lips locked about Persephone.”

Draco nodded. At least his godfather was on his side more than Dumbledore’s or the Dark Lord’s. He rubbed his aching cheek. 

“I had to alter Astoria’s memory,” he admitted while walking his godfather back to the gates. 

“Was it successful?”

“Yes, of course. I couldn’t have let her leave otherwise.” Snape looked weary of his response. 

“Tread carefully, Draco.” His stomach clenched, remembering when his father had dismissed him with those same words. 


	20. Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione tries to figure out Theo. Draco catches her doing clandestine research.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to MythalGivesYouDreams, Elisabeth226, and Banditochronicles for commenting on the past three chapters in a row! You three are keeping me going. That being said, my muse is struggling to inspire and fuel my writing, so I may need to skip a week or two coming up.

“Treating our king right, Granger?” Theo smirked as they walked back to the main building or palace as some referred to it.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sent a stinging hex toward his backside. Thanatos yowled, jumping at the unpleasant sensation. She had to fight to keep the smirk from her face.

“As your queen, I’d like to request that your snide comments be absent from my presence.”

She refused to look at him and tried to walk as quickly as possible, her nose in the air. Out of the corner of her eye, though, she could see the shite-eating grin he was sporting. Ignoring him, Hermione figured he’d say something if he really wanted her to hear it.

“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before, but you two are a perfect match,” Theo commented thoughtfully.

Hermione couldn’t help but whip her head toward him. “How?” She was in disbelief, but also sincerely wanted to know in case it revealed anything to support her research.

“You both have always had your noses up in the air, your heads in books, and wands so far up your asses that you can’t see how similar you are.”

She blinked. Her normal reaction would be disdain toward his insult, but she was trying to see if there was truth in his words. Malfoy had always been right behind her in most classes up until last year when he’d walked around school like an inferius. He’d always been spoiled and posh and stuck-up. While she didn’t classify herself as stuck-up, she knew what others whispered behind her back: prissy, prude, swot, etc. 

Perhaps fate or the Fates had found a twisted way for them to realize how equally matched they were. Thanatos was not wrong, Hermione could say that much, but she didn’t want him to go on harping about it.

“We’re still getting to know each other, so that has yet to be determined,” she supplied.

Thanatos snorted, but didn’t argue. Hermione remembered her question for him, something she had forgotten to mention to Malfoy.

“Is it possible to send a message to the wizarding world from here?” 

“Why? Are you trying to send a message to your Gryffindors to rescue you? Fat lot of good it’ll do you when you won’t be able to walk through the gates until spring.”

She shook her head. “No, I just want to let them know that I’m okay and make sure they’re okay. I didn’t really tell them… I didn’t know how to explain it…” 

“You’ll have to take it up with the boss, but your message would be carried by Hermes and more than likely Zeus will intercept it,” he explained casually.

Hermione’s lip curled into a grimace at the thought of interacting with Hermes again so soon. “Is there a way I could communicate with my friends more frequently? Like Malfoy gave me a coin with the protean charm, but maybe it could work with a journal? If I could write them and they could write back in case something happens…” She was more muttering to herself at this point. It was something she could look into at the library. 

“Granger! Are you trying to get you and Malfoy killed? Your friends would be in danger too. Even though it doesn’t feel like it right now, we’re in the middle of a war. A war with a powerful dark wizard facing off with a seventeen-year-old boy!” Theo all but screamed in her face. 

Wide-eyed, Hermione stared at the Slytherin as they stopped before entering the palace. The boy looked angry, his fists clenched. She stopped herself from reaching out to comfort him.

“Whose side are you on, Theo?” 

His eyes narrowed to slits at her. “My father is supporting the Dark Lord,” Thanatos gritted out as he forcefully opened the door for her, the hinges squealing. 

Hermione stepped through and turned when he hadn’t followed her. Still holding the door open, Theo gave her a stiff bow and let the door swing shut. She frowned, brow furrowing as she made her way to the library. 

***

She thought she was going cross-eyed as she finished skimming another book for a communication method that wouldn’t be detectable to anyone but her, Harry and Ron… Perhaps she should research a combination of the Fidelius and Protean charm… Her mind was as frazzled as she could feel her hair becoming. 

Casting a tempus charm, she saw it was half two in the morning. Hermione hadn’t seen Draco since their embarrassing encounter with Snape and Theo. While she knew Snape had been part of the Order, he had murdered Professor Dumbledore and had done it because Draco couldn’t. Hermione didn’t know where any of their loyalties lie, these Slytherins. They seemed to be loyal to their own causes and she couldn’t get a strong read on any of them. 

Harry had always assumed the worst of Slytherins due to Malfoy and his cronies’ behaviors, but she took the logical approach: there was good and bad in each house. It seemed, though, that Slytherin had the worst reputation for dark wizards. While Harry had been right about Draco last year after Dumbledore had been murdered and the Death Eaters had infiltrated Hogwarts, it didn’t mean those responsible were evil to the core. 

Professor Snape had never been kind to her; however, Hermione hadn’t expected him to kill Dumbledore as part of the Order. This war wasn’t as simple as black and white, good and evil. Again, Hermione was having a difficult time reconciling the convictions of the cunning Slytherins around her. She thought about Harry telling her about how the Marauder’s Map had insulted Snape and smiled slightly.

“That’s it!” she cried, her voice echoing throughout the empty library. If Hermione could figure out how to replicate the spells on the Marauder’s Map that entailed a password and repelled anyone who might intercept it -- Kingsley/Zeus or Hermes/Blaise -- then she could send a message to her friends. 

Hermione nearly screamed in surprise when she saw a figure standing in front of her. Her heart was galloping in her chest as she gasped for air, staring at Hades now illuminated by the moonlight. “Why did you sneak up on me like that, you dolt!”

A twinge of a smirk graced his lips. “You were very clearly in your own head and it’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention.”

She shook her head, realizing how sneaky Slytherins could be whether they meant it or not. Still trying to slow her heart, Hermione tried to pat down her riotous curls. 

“I was looking for you, but you didn’t answer your door in your quarters, so I came here.”

She examined him and muttered, “I lost track of time.” Why was he looking for her so late at night?

“You should get some sleep… this can wait,” he said dejectedly, rubbing his neck.

Hermione knew Draco wasn’t telling her everything again. “What did Snape say?”

His silver irises flashed in the moonglow, the rest of his form benighted by shadows. He was imposing, really. It made her thighs quiver and she squeezed them together. 

“He had a similar situation in the first war. He cared for someone he wasn’t supposed to and she died because of it. He’s going to try to help us.”

Hermione released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and smiled. “That’s good, isn’t it?” 

He stalked silently towards where she stood behind the desk, like a wolf on the prowl. And he looked like a predator. His footsteps barely made a sound on the floor, luminescent eyes devouring her. Leaning over, hands on the desk, his tall form allowed his lips to nearly reach hers. He didn’t go in for the kiss, though.

“Yes, but we have to make sure we don’t put others into more jeopardy than we already are,” he explained in just above a whisper, his eyes wandering down to her slightly parted lips.

And then he must have glanced down far enough to glimpse what she was reading. Hermione’s heart sank into her stomach. She’d meant to ask him about it, but more… pressing things always seemed to come up around him.

“What’s this?” 

“Erm… well I just thought it might be a good idea to find a secretive way to contact the Order so it wouldn’t be intercepted.” 

The intensity of his gaze made her feel like he could see right into her brain. “Going over my head, Granger?” Draco admonished. 

“N-no… Not at all, really. I had mentioned it to Theo--”

“Theo? You went to him and not me about this?” The ferocity in his voice, the hurt, made her heart stutter.

She swallowed thickly. “I didn’t mean to… I just haven’t had the chance to bring it up with you.”

“Do you realize that you gave a Death Eater intel that you’re trying to communicate with the Order?” he snarled.

“Wha--?”

“How can I get it into that stubborn brain of yours that you  _ cannot trust ANYONE?!” _

Hermione stood her ground. “But you?” 

He sighed, the anger draining the tenseness from his muscles. His head sagged forward, arms still braced on the desk. “Yes, except for me. I’ve already explained everything. I can’t protect you--”

“What if I can protect myself? What if  _ you _ simply set everything in motion by kidnapping me? Turning me into Persephone?”

Draco didn’t answer as he drew himself back to standing and walked around the desk to where she stood. Her heart was beating a harsh tattoo against her ribs as he stopped centimeters from her. 

“Please understand that all I’ve done, all I will ever do, will not intentionally put you in harm's way. I’ve done it all for you… You’re our best chance at getting out of this mess.”

His thumb brushed her jaw as if she were made of glass, as if she would shatter into a million pieces at his feet. She felt like she would shatter if he didn’t kiss her. Hermione felt worthy of all that, of protection, of helping the war come to a positive conclusion in his eyes, his arms.

“Draco…” she whispered, licking her lips. “I’ve figured out a way to get something to my friends without--” 

His lips met hers in the most reverent of kisses. Any rational thought disintegrated in her mind and any words were swept away by his tongue. She thought a tear might leak from her eyes as he gently cupped her jaw. Draco fleetingly kissed the tip of her nose, each of her eyelids, the apples of her cheeks, and then her temples before breathing a pledge, “I would die for you.”

She finally came back to her senses and mirrored his hold on her face. “Don’t say that, Draco.”

“I won’t make the same mistake as my godfather, Hermione. I won’t.” 


	21. Not Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione tries to seduce Draco and at his response, she has three very important questions for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and special recognition goes to Elisabeth226, MythalGivesYouDreams, and Wolfling for their comments on the previous chapter!

Hermione pressed her mouth to his in a more urgent, needy kiss. She swallowed his moan as their tongues slid over one another. Pressing her body into his, she convinced him to pick her up and set her on the desk so he could lean between her thighs. Her hands snuck under the hem of his shirt, gripping his bare back, and brought him as close as they could be. 

Now horizontal on the table with Draco’s bulge pressed into her core, Hermione felt out of control, pleasure and anticipation thrumming through her veins. She bucked under him, his grunts absorbed into her skin as he nipped at her throat and collar bones. 

Bravely, Hermione reached between them and slipped her hands into his shorts. He froze with a strangled groan. Draco pushed himself out of her grasp, eyeing her wearily and panting.

“We can’t keep doing this, Hermione,” he rasped.

Her heart felt heavy, like it was falling through her body, through the table, and it would hit the floor with an obscene slap soon. He didn’t really want her, after all. This was just a duty to him, like an arranged courtship. Tears threatened to fall down her cheeks. 

He heard her sniffle and his eyebrows dropped in concern. Draco reached for her again, pulling her into a sitting position, one hand in her hair and the other arm around her back. “Shh... no, I didn’t mean that… That’s not how I meant it. Bugger…” he muttered into her hair.

“What did you mean, then?” Her voice sounded small and childlike. She hated herself for that, crying all over a boy again as she had with Ron.

She felt the rush of his breath as he exhaled. “I want you so badly… I don’t know if I can control myself if I touch you again. I want to taste you again. I want to be inside you, feel you around me, make you mine.”

His words made her core clench and her body temperature rise. She had to argue, though. “I told you last time that you could have me, but you said we had to wait. What are we waiting for?” 

Hermione knew she sounded desperate, like last time, but there was something so tempting about him. She wanted to break whatever rules he had set in his mind. 

“And I want to give in, I really do… It’s going to sound barmy, but I had this dream where we were being married by Hera in a field of lavender at sunset and all I wanted to do was lay you in the field and make love to you.”

“And you, Draco Malfoy, acclaimed Slytherin Sex God, want us to be married before we have sex?” she said incredulously. 

Draco rested his head on her shoulder, abashed. “I know how it sounds, but I feel like it would be wrong if we did it now. Is that okay with you?”

“I could seduce you into taking my virtue,” she teased him, wrapping her legs around him so their fronts were flush. 

Draco smirked. “And what do you know about seduction?”

She thought for a minute before unwrapping her legs and scooting back from him on the table. And then she turned around and slowly crawled to the other side, swaying her hips side to side. Hermione could almost feel his stare following her arse. 

Once standing on the other side of the table, she turned her head to the side. Sure enough, he was palming himself through his shorts, eyes still fixed on her arse. She rolled her eyes.

“Like you said, teenage boy,” she said pointing at him. “Witch with great assets.” And pointed to herself before apparating to her quarters. 

***

Oh, his little goddess was a minx. Curse the pureblood gentleman in him because he wanted her badly and she was more than willing… Draco shook his head to banish the thought as he followed her in apparition. He knocked on the door to her rooms and it immediately swung open.

She must have charmed it open as Hermione wasn’t in the sitting room. His stomach flipped at the image of her waiting for him in the bedroom. Blood started rushing south as he tried to clear his mind of the desire. 

He still hadn’t told her why he’d visited her so late at night. Draco hadn’t been able to sleep after waking with her in his arms that morning. His bed felt so empty, his arms bereft of her warmth and softness. He’d been hoping she wanted company if only to fall asleep next to her. His own nightmares had been eased by her presence, her magic.

“Hermione?” he called.

“In the bedroom!” she responded immediately. A shiver of anticipation ran through him. As he entered the open double doors, he saw a flash of bare, golden skin with a triangle of white at the apex of her thighs. 

Hermione was wearing a navy oversized sweater that fell to the middle of her thighs, but he knew he’d just seen her knickers. She was teasing him, trying to seduce him. Draco never thought he’d find himself in this position: trying to resist the advances of the witch he wanted.

He desperately wanted to see if there was a wet patch between her thighs. He wanted it to be his shirt that barely hid her body from him after vigorously shagging her. His cock twitched in his pants. The last straw was her biting her lip shyly.

Draco was on her in seconds as she automatically wrapped her arms around his neck. He tugged her lip out from her teeth and sucked on it until she moaned. His kisses trailed over her jaw and to her neck and shoulder, over which Draco glimpsed her knicker-clad bum peeking out tantalizingly where the sweater had ridden up. 

He’d been so distracted that he hadn’t noticed her hand moving until it cupped his erection through his trousers. Draco hissed, his teeth lightly tugging on her trap muscle. A moment of weakness made him buck into her touch. Trying to move away from her altogether, Draco realized that his hands were magically glued to her waist.

His head pulled back to look down at her in amazement. To his utter delight, Hermione giggled at his predicament. She squeezed his hard cock and withdrew a moan from him. 

“You’re not playing fair, love,” he said huskily. 

She gave him a smirk reminiscent of his own and peered up at him through her eyelashes. He’d been wrong when he’d said she couldn’t seduce him. His body preened, but his mind was reeling. 

“I’ll free you if you answer three questions,” she said, her tongue tracing and dipping into the hollow of his throat. 

His body shuddered. “Fine,” Draco gritted out. He wasn’t going to like these questions, he just knew it.

“Were you attracted to me before you kidnapped me?” He swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

Draco waited for a few heartbeats. He had no obligation to tell her the truth, but moving forward he didn’t want to lie to her. Her fingers lightly caressed his bollocks through the material and he had to stifle a moan.

“I didn’t think I was… but at the Yule Ball, you were a vision, so I knew you had some kind of figure.”

Hermione only hummed in response. “Do you want to fuck me?”

A strangled moan left his lips. The word  _ fuck _ on her proper lips was sinful and made his balls ache. The pressure of her hand lessened to his dismay.

“Yes, you can feel that for yourself,” he snarked.

To his surprise, she laughed. “There’s that Malfoy arrogance.” He wanted to protest, but she was right and he cursed himself for getting annoyed.

“What’s the third question, Granger?” he breathed.

“I’ll get to it... I thought I was ‘Hermione’ now.” She pouted, her bottom lip plump and nearly his for the taking. A finger traced his zipper, feeling his hardness twitch under her touch.

“Hermione, ask me your question,” Draco growled. 

Pursing her lips and then licking them, she leaned in to whisper it to him. “Do you want to marry me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I know I left you on a cliffhanger, but I've lost my muse in the chaos going on in the real world. It might be 2 weeks until the next chapter is up. I've tried to stay at least two chapters ahead of this story, but life has gotten in the way and my inspiration has dwindled. I don't want to get ahead of my pre-written chapters, so please forgive me if the wait is longer than usual!


	22. Eventually

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco answers Hermione's last question. More progress is made on communicating with Hermione's friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My inner happy dance goes out to Elisabeth226, MythalGivesYouDreams, and Wolfling for their comments on the previous few chapters!

Hermione’s heart was pulsing in her throat as she finished asking the final question. She didn’t know what she wanted the answer to be. What she wanted to know was how serious he was about her. This wasn’t just fooling around, right?

To her surprise, Draco took her hand away from his zipper and knelt down on one knee in front of her. His smirk was nervous, the corner of his mouth twitching. 

“Hermione Granger, Persephone, will you marry me… eventually?”

She laughed. “Eventually?”

He pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles before standing. “We’ve only just started to get to know one another, Hermione. We’re barely on a first name basis.”

“You know me better physically than anyone else,” she argued, crushing his shirt in her fist as he traced a finger up her spine. Tendrils of pleasure seemed to race from his touch across her body, tingling wildly in her breasts and her clit. 

A rumble of agreement in his chest didn’t let her off the hook. “While that may be true and a huge boost for my ego, we can’t rush this, Hermione. No matter how much we both want that.”

Hermione let out a defeated rush of breath “yerrright.”

Draco pulled back. “What did you just say?”

She bit her lip coyly. “Don’t make me say it again.

He smirked at her but surprisingly conceded. “I won’t… yet.” 

She hit him lightly in the chest in retaliation. “Will you stay with me again tonight? I promise to behave.”

“Alright, I’ll have to trust you, my little minx.” Hermione winked at him, leading him by the hand to the bed. 

He stripped down to his pants and joined her in the bed, wrapping his larger frame around hers. She melted into him, shoulders relaxing, the tension in her neck loosening. Hermione didn’t say anything more, not even goodnight before she drifted off to sleep.

***

Weeks later, Draco woke up sweating. His dream had contained a series of flashes like camera bulbs. 

> _ His father’s unrelenting grip on his arm as his own voice stammers, "I can't — I can't be sure." _
> 
> _ Fenrir Greyback snarling, ‘And lastly, your pretty little friend... I'm not going to bite just yet. We'll see if she's a bit quicker at remembering her name than Barny. Who are you, girly?’ _
> 
> _ An ugly goblin arguing and fighting his grip on their ascent up the stairs. _
> 
> _ The chandelier in the drawing-room of the manor crashing to the floor over two bodies. _

He turned over, trying to snuggle back into Hermione and ignore the strange flashes of the future -- if they even were the future. Her chocolate brown eyes, the ones he’d been now used to waking up to, were full of fear. Before he could say anything, she whispered something so quietly he nearly didn’t hear her at all.

“What if something happens?” 

His arms wrapped around her. “What do you mean?” Draco tried to say nonchalantly.

His little Gryffindor buried her nose into his neck, hiding from the possibilities. It made his stomach clench, the fact that she was hiding. As he began to get to know her beyond her swotty, controlling, slightly impulsive tendencies, Draco knew that Hermione Granger was most likely braver than Harry Potter. 

“What if something happens to us before we can wed?” 

He swallowed thickly. After what he’d just dreamt, he couldn’t very well deny that she could be right. Draco stroked her back as he tried to come up with something comforting to say.

“We can’t think like that, Hermione. We have to be ready.”

She leaned back, her forefinger tracing the outline of his left pectoral muscle. He fought the urge to shiver. “I know why you want to wait. I know this isn’t something we should take lightly, but I can’t help that it’s something you’re not telling me.”

Draco felt like she’d sent a shock to his heart. She was rather intuitive, not just book-smart, he’d discovered. He knew he’d disguise and hide his emotions naturally and it bothered her. He’d tried to open himself up for her, for the little emotions, but it didn’t come easily. Not after seventeen years of concealing his feelings.

“It’s not… it’s not because of my blood, right?”

His mind stopped whirring as she spoke her insecurity. He stared at her, shocked. After all this, her blood status could be his hesitance? 

He saw a tear roll down her cheek as she turned away from him. His heart clenched painfully. Draco caught her hand and pulled her back to cradle her to his chest. 

He knew he had to appeal to her logic for her to understand. “Do you think I would have done any of this at all if I was still a blood-purist? I know what your worth is, Hermione, and it has nothing to do with your blood and everything to do with who you are. Potter isn’t famous because of his blood or his parents; he’s the so-called Chosen One because of what he represents to the Dark Lord: a threat. You represent a threat to the Death Eaters no matter if they know it or not. You’re not some pawn. You will excel and succeed because of your brilliance and determination and I believe in you far more than any other player in this war. 

“And now, you mean more than all that to me. You’re someone I respect, cherish, and care about. It could be something more, but I can’t force that on you. We both need time to explore this. And I can’t help but think--” he pursed his lips together and shook his head.

Her soft hand cradled his jaw as if she was the key to unlocking his truths. He wanted to give in, but he didn’t know if he could tell her. His breath hitched when she pressed her lips to his and he yielded to her. Her kisses were unhurried, soft, and comforting. It made him want to weep.

“When our time is up and we’re married in the Immortal Realm, will you want to be by my side in the Wizarding World?” The words rushed out of his mouth so quickly, he barely knew what he had said.

Hermione’s mouth drew into a thin line. “You think I care what other people who aren’t my friends think? Even my friends’ opinions matter to a certain point, but my choices are my own. I know what it’s like to be under public scrutiny during the Triwizard Tournament, Draco. Do you think I cared about the rubbish that Rita Skeeter was peddling? No. Did I make sure that it wouldn’t happen again? Of course, I did.” 

He didn’t think he could admire Hermione Granger anymore until that rueful smirk came to her lips after her speech. Draco knew he should tell her that he was part of those lies that Rita printed, but he knew it wouldn’t make a difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quotes in italics from Draco’s dream are from "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows."
> 
> Only one chapter is pre-written from this point on, so I may have to skip a week in the near future, but I must say my muse has come back for long enough to write another chapter! <3


	23. Powerful Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione shows her brilliance and cunning. Draco can't help but admire her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Elisabeth226 and MythalGivesYouDreams for their comments!

** _PREVIOUSLY_ **

_ Hermione’s mouth drew into a thin line. “You think I care what other people who aren’t my friends think? Even my friends’ opinions matter to a certain point, but my choices are my own. I know what it’s like to be under public scrutiny during the Triwizard Tournament, Draco. Do you think I cared about the rubbish that Rita Skeeter was peddling? No. Did I make sure that it wouldn’t happen again? Of course, I did.” _

_ He didn’t think he could admire Hermione Granger anymore until that rueful smirk came to her lips after her speech. Draco knew he should tell her that he was part of those lies that Rita printed, but he knew it wouldn’t make a difference. _

* * *

“How?” he said breathlessly. She had never looked more Slytherinesque than at that moment.

Twirling her wand absently, Hermione explained how she’d discovered that Rita was an unregistered animagus, a beetle. That was how she could overhear so many conversations and report on stories that there were no other witnesses for. Hermione had trapped Rita as a beetle in a jar for a while and threatened her with exposure of her status if she ever reported a false story about Hermione and her friends. 

Draco’s response was automatic: he kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as she moaned into his. He let her gasp for air as he continued down her throat, sucking at her pulse, which he knew by now made her groan and buck her hips. 

“Remind me never to cross you, love,” he said, nuzzling her neck. His heart stuttered at her giggle.

“The sorting hat must have had a helluva time sorting you, Granger,” he murmured into her skin. “Brave like Gryffindor,”_ kiss _ “Fair like Hufflepuff,” _ nip _ “Intelligent like Ravenclaw,” _ lick _ “And cunning like Slytherin.”

She was sitting astride his lap now, her hands in his hair and nails biting into his shoulder. “You’re everything a wizard could want, Hermione Granger. And everything I don’t deserve.”

Hermione stopped writhing on his lap and pulled his head up to look at her. “I never thought a Slytherin, let alone a Malfoy, would stoop to self-deprecation. It’s not a good look on you,” she admonished him. 

She continued with her lecture as he stared at her: “Besides, the house sorting is kind of a laugh, no matter how much I love Hogwarts and its history. Many students possess varying amounts of the qualities each house founder valued.”

“You’re being modest,” he deflected. Hermione rolled her eyes and started to get out of bed. 

He playfully grabbed her ankle before she could leave. “Draco!” 

“Where are you going, _ Persephone _?” he drawled with a smirk. She scoffed at him.

“To the library. I need to finish up that spell and you could come help me with it,” Hermione supplied as she threw leggings and a jumper on. 

Draco had to admit that he had developed an appreciation for the Muggle outfits she wore daily. The leggings hugged the length of her legs while the baggy jumpers let him see the hints of her breasts and curves of her hips. He was always half-hard when she was in full view. 

“I suppose I could spare some time for my queen’s benefit today,” he sighed dramatically. “Shall we bring our tea there?”

Hermione gave him a blinding smile. She loved her cuppa in the morning. He’d begun to wonder if this was what marriage to her would be like, this routine and domesticity?

The real test of their relationship would be if it could stand the strain of Potter and Weasel knowing about it. On one hand, he wanted to make Hermione happy by re-establishing the connection with her friends; on the other, he wanted to keep her all to himself. What could he say? He was a spoiled, only child and he didn’t like sharing.

Hermione had been diligently working on the combination of spells to enchant a set of journals that would act as two-way communication tools and ward off anyone except the intended readers. Draco had struggled with deciding whether or not he should be included in those who the journals were warded against. He had convincingly insisted that the less he knew, the better lest he be tortured for information in the future. 

In return for his insistence, Hermione had kissed him and promised that she would tell him what she could if it was not important to the war. He shrugged it off but was secretly pleased that she would confide in him. There was a bounce in her step as he watched her bustle around to her spot at the table in the library

The complex spellwork was nearly complete along with the password, which Hermione had recorded in secret. He knew it would be some inside joke between the trio that he couldn’t understand. Part of him was jealous of her friendship because Slytherins treated friendships as means to their own ends, as resources instead of relationships. No wonder he could never find a girlfriend! Not that he’d met anyone before Hermione that he’d wanted as badly. 

“Draco?” Hermione caught his attention. She’d probably said his name several times from her confused expression. “Ready to help me test it?”

He nodded, still a little distracted by his thoughts. He opened one of the plain journals. There wasn’t any writing anywhere, just blank pages. “_ Revelio _.”

Writing appeared in Hermione’s careful scrawl -- her notes were barely legible when she was writing fast and in her own version of shorthand.

_ Be warned. _

_ This journal is haunted by the soul of Regulus Black, a Death Eater turned traitor, defender of house-elves. His death at the hand of the inferi was in pursuit of saving the next generation the horrors of war. Only the most powerful magic of all may unlock the contents of this journal. _

_ No dark magic may reveal its secrets. _

“That’s chilling, Hermione,” he said, looking up from the journal. She shrugged with a smile. 

“It works!”

Draco closed the journal and smirked. “You won’t share what this ‘most powerful magic’ is then?” 

“Oh, my dear Draco. It’s the same magic that saved Harry’s life.” 

He was stumped. No one knew how Potter had made it out alive, especially not Voldemort. Everyone thought Potter was powerful, but he received average grades at Hogwarts. His dueling skills were decent, but Potter would barely pass other classes besides DADA without Hermione’s help. 

She rolled her eyes. “It was his mother’s love, Draco.” He raised his eyebrows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a short note in the comments section! What do you think of the message in the journal? Where do you think this story will go?  
As another fanfiction author said, "Toss a comment to your writer." (I can't remember where I saw it, so I can't give direct credit to the author, but I did not make it up even though I wish I did.)


	24. Journals

_Previously_

_ “Oh, my dear Draco. It’s the same magic that saved Harry’s life.” _

_ He was stumped. No one knew how Potter had made it out alive, especially not Voldemort. Everyone thought Potter was powerful, but he received average grades at Hogwarts. His dueling skills were decent, but Potter would barely pass other classes besides DADA without Hermione’s help. _

_ She rolled her eyes. “It was his mother’s love, Draco.” He raised his eyebrows. _

* * *

“Love, you say?” Draco questioned her, frowning.

Her expression softened. She never thought she’d have to explain the power of love to someone, but clearly the Malfoys didn’t care too much for outward affection. Their interactions she’d witnessed -- though she’d usually been harrassed by Draco then -- were wooden, compulsory, but there was no deep emotion, at least not to the observer. 

“You love your parents right? What you’re doing for them is protection, sacrifice, _ love _,” Hermione explained. 

He nodded stiffly. “Does that… does that mean… what I did for you… was out of love?” 

His silver eyes had never looked so innocent. It melted her heart. Did he love her? Draco had denied it before, but it nearly seemed inevitable now.

She smiled encouragingly. “Only you’ll know if you did it for love, Draco. It’s flattering to think of that way, romantic, even.”

“I suppose many interpret the capture of Persephone as a romantic gesture. Really, Hades just wanted her,” he drawled, his eyes lasciviously tracing her curves.

With a blush, Hermione considered this. “Some tellings say Hades fell in love with her, a love at first sight kind of love. I think your intentions were purer than the original myth.”

Draco smirked, but she knew he understood. “Are they ready? The journals?”

She nodded enthusiastically. Hades appeared to be much less enthused. “Are you still worried that we’ll get caught?”

He shrugged, eyes cast downward as if inspecting his pristine shoes. Hermione stepped into his space, arms wrapping around his waist until his tilted head was resting atop hers. His heart beat steadily beneath her cheek as he slowly returned her embrace. Draco sighed heavily.

“This won’t change anything between us, Draco. It’s for our peace of mind if anything.”

***

A few days after they sent one of the journals with an impish-looking Hermes, Draco was bracing for an inevitable visit from some other god who’d intercepted the package. He’d instructed Hermes to bring it directly to Zeus as an offering from the new Persephone. For a Gryffindor, Hermione sure was crafty. She’d told Draco that she etched a message to Kingsley in the leather of the journal, so he would deduce for whom the journal was really intended and get a message through Potterwatch to the Chosen One. 

“I’m sure Ron has been listening to the radio every night hoping to hear some news of me,” she expressed guiltily to him after laying out her plan.

He knew he had to comfort her. “I’m sure they’ll forgive you and probably hate me more.”

Draco didn’t meet her eyes as she scoffed. Picking a piece of invisible lint on his pants, he was suddenly being mounted by a small yet curvaceous witch. He looked up in surprise and was startled by the expression Hermione wore. She was yearning, but for whom? For her friends somewhere in the “real” world or for the wizard she was straddling?

Her lips stole kisses from his -- not that she didn’t have his permission to kiss him -- but they were shy and tantalizing. She nipped his bottom lip and a throaty growl erupted from his chest. Draco dragged her closer, her knees on either side of his hips, breasts squished against his collarbone. Hermione was snogging him breathless when a knock came on her suite’s outer door. 

He tried to protest her kisses that were growing hungrier by the second, but she refused to let him break away from her. Her thighs were digging into his torso and her hands were forcing his face closer to hers. She must not have heard the knock. Draco was panicking. It could be his father or Snape again or the Dark Lord himself at their door. 

Draco took a risk. “_ Hermione! Someone’s at the door! _” 

She ended up biting his lip so sharply that blood trickled down his chin as she jumped at his intrusive voice in her mind. Shocked, Hermione’s head whipped around fast enough to see their visitor enter. It was too late for her to scramble off him as a blonde head came into view. Draco’s vision started to swim at the fear mounting in his chest.

***

“Daphne?” Hermione asked breathlessly as Hera floated into the room. She couldn’t even process the fact that she’d bitten Draco after he had to use legilimency to stop her from kissing him

The goddess gave her a serene smile before sitting herself on the settee across from where she was still on Draco’s lap. Hermione moved to climb off him, but Daphne shook her head.

“No need to get up at my interruption, Hermione. I’m so happy you two are getting along,” Daphne remarked pleasantly.

She looked pityingly at Draco who had his monogrammed handkerchief pressed to his mouth. His wide, silver eyes were resolutely on their guest. Hermione decided to sit across his lap in the large armchair, so she could face Hera. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to him. “To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure, Hera?” Hermione asked Hera as if the goddess hadn’t just caught them snogging.

Daphne grinned warmly. “I have a message from Zeus. He wanted to send it through Hermes, but I said I wanted to check on you and see how your relationship was progressing.”

Hermione looked at her expectantly and nodded for her to continue. Draco was silent still, but she knew he was listening. 

“He said that your request has been granted, Persephone. It should be fulfilled in the next few days. He also said to compliment you on your spellwork as well as your cunning with riddles and codes.”

Hermione beamed. She didn’t care too much for compliments, but she was pleased that Kingsley had complied. “Would you like to heal Hades’ poor lip?” Hera asked.

Hermione flushed and turned back to Draco. “_ Episkey,” _she said, waving her hand over his mouth. She knew how she’d make it up to him after Daphne left.

“You’re a very talented witch, Persephone. The Underworld will surely thrive under your rule. However, I should strongly suggest that you put some wards up so that your private life won’t be interrupted like this again, by someone less neutral than I. I’m sure you know the spells,” Hera warned sagely.

“Of course, I will do that. I suppose I didn’t realize how easy it might be for other wizards to sneak in here,” Hermione admitted to her chagrin. She had become lax in her security measures since coming to the Underworld. 

“Be more careful, you two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my commenters for your encouragement!!! ❤️❤️❤️


	25. Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione receives startling news and she wants Draco to help take her mind off it.

“She’s right,” Draco said, running a hand through his hair. Hermione bit her lip and nodded, still concentrating on the wards she was putting up.

“I don’t know how either of us hadn’t thought about it before, to be honest.” 

Hades shrugged. The Underworld had always seemed safe from the “outside” world, but if Snape could enter undetected, Draco figured Voldemort could as well. A dangerous shiver traveled down his spine, settling uncomfortably in his stomach.

“You’ll be the Secret Keeper?” Hermione asked as she continued to wave her wand. Draco wasn’t sure how to respond. After he didn’t, she clarified, “For the Fidelius Charm.”

He swallowed the dry lump in his throat as best as he could. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? What if--”

“Voldemort tries to force it out of you? He won’t be able to, Draco…. Besides, you’re the only one I trust right now. We’re in this together.” 

Hermione offered him her hand and he took it softly in his, like a treasure. Her rich, dark eyes flecked with gold took his breath away as she entrusted him, the secret heavy in his heart. His chest tightened with the knowledge that it would be his fault if she were discovered. Everything would be his fault if they failed.

*** November 15th ***

It had nearly been a few weeks since they’d sent the journal. Hermione seemed happier than she had when it was only the two of them. Now that Potter and Weasley were speaking to her, she was constantly smiling at their communications in the journal. Jealousy came easily to Draco Malfoy. 

Even if it was him whom she was kissing, he who slept in her bed, he who apparated her tired body from the library, he who kept her secret location, he who planned to marry her; Draco was still jealous of her so-called best friends. After all, Potter had gotten Hermione wrapped up into this messy war, he was the reason why she was in danger in the first place. He knew Hermione would argue that it was her choice, but what kind of friends endangered each other?

Draco was curious as to what Hermione was researching on behalf of the duncely duo. He’d told her to hide it from him, just in case someone read his mind or interrogated him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in finding out the trio’s strategy to winning this war. Trying not to look at the spines of the books stacked on what he now regarded as Hermione’s library desk, Draco waited patiently for her to look up from the journal.

A gasping sob grabbed his attention. Hermione’s face was crumpled, fighting tears. “Ron! No, no, no!” she cried.

She collapsed over the journal as if it were Ron’s body and Draco’s instinct was to rush over to her. He gently brushed her wayward curls with his hand trying to console her. Hermione turned to him, sniffled, and buried her face into his chest. 

“What happened, Hermione?”

She’d crawled into his lap on the floor after he’d bent down to figure out what was wrong. It seemed like she couldn’t shed any more tears, so she hiccoughed. Her red-rimmed, puffy eyes gazed at him.

“He-he left… Ron just left Harry! It was because--” she stopped, biting her lip. He knew she’d almost said something he wasn’t supposed to know. “He was angry, irrational… He accused Harry and me of ganging up on him.” Hermione shook her head in disbelief.

Draco wanted to shrug. It sounded like the Weasley he knew, but if he said anything derogatory about the ginger git, it would alienate her. 

All he could think to say was, “I’m sorry he did that, love. He shouldn’t have abandoned Potter like that. Weasley will go back soon enough.” 

“I hope so… What if one of them gets caught by snatchers? What if they get to Harry?” Her breathing became gasping as her anxiety overtook her again.

“Breathe, Hermione. Breathe. That’s it… in and out,” he whispered. Draco wasn’t good at comforting people. He’d only had his parents growing up and no one expected it from him, not even his so-called Slytherin friends.

In an effort to make her more comfortable, he apparated them to her suite. Draco summoned tea service from the elves as she clung to him, calmer, but still upset. He was able to convince her to nibble at a biscuit and take a few sips of tea. 

“Don’t worry, love. Weasley will return to Potter. Those two can’t survive long without each other.” 

***

Anxiety constantly bubbled in Hermione’s stomach like a carbonated drink as a week since Ron left Harry passed. She greatly appreciated Draco’s support -- he even fed her when she simply stared at her food and pushed it around her plate. He’d been comforting as she tried to figure out a way to help her friends from the Underworld.

They had to destroy that damned locket. That’s what had caused Ron to leave, his negativity and impulsivity. If only they had a way to destroy the horcrux.

“Mother used to read this to me. I’m surprised you have a copy,” Draco remarked as he was browsing her bookshelf in her sitting room. They’d just finished breakfast and Hermione was still sipping tea, mulling over her thoughts.

Hermione blinked at him as he held up the book:  _ The Tales of Beedle the Bard _ . “I hadn’t heard of it until Dumbledore left it to me in his will.”

Draco arched a pale eyebrow at her. “I’m still not sure why he did. The symbol was familiar, but other than that I’m not sure what help a children’s story will be in defeating Voldemort,” she said shrugging.

“Most wizarding children know the stories. My father always hated my mother reading them to me. He said they were stupid fantasies.”

Her mind was buzzing at the mention of his parents and childhood. “Will you go see them?” she asked suddenly. At his look of alarm, she elaborated, “In a few weeks for Christmas?”

“I hadn’t thought about it much,” he answered with a frown, examining the rug. 

Hermione knew it was a tough subject for him as well as for her. Her own parents didn’t know she existed and he was trying to protect his parents from their misplaced allegiance. She wasn’t sure if his reluctance had anything to do with her.

Taking his hand, she kissed the smooth, pale palm. His silver eyes darkened to flint, sparking to life. His hand buried itself into her curls as he tipped her head back to claim her mouth. She purred at his tongue brushing hers. Her scalp burned pleasantly as he exposed her throat. 

“I don’t want to think,” he said nibbling on her ear lobe. “About them.” Draco sucked a bruise into her pulse point, her knees weakening. “I want to be with you,” he growled.

“I want to consume you.” Hermione gasped as his hand pressed into her lower back so she could feel his burgeoning arousal against her stomach. “And I want you to consume me.”

She felt lightheaded with desire, the blood in her veins alight and simmering. “Please, Draco,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper. Hermione had been pleading with him for more, but his resolve only wavered until he reigned himself in.

There was a possessiveness in his eyes now glinting like obsidian that had only flickered on once or twice. It seemed to stay as he examined her with hunger. His expression made her stomach flip and her clit throb.

Before she could blink, Draco had backed her up to the wall, her wrists in one of his large hands and raised above her head. His other hand skated down her hip and traced the seam on the side of her leggings until it reached her knee. He hitched her leg over his hip and she gasped as his covered erection rubbed roughly against her core. 

“Is this what you want, Her-mi-o-ne?” he drawled, teasing her name out by the syllables. “You want me to fuck you against this wall? You want my cock inside you?” 

Hermione shifted for more friction on that bundle of nerves at her apex. They groaned in unison at her movement, his cock starting to grind against her out of instinct. Her eyes started to droop as she surrendered to the relief.

“Look at me, Persephone,” Draco demanded.

She blinked the haze of building pleasure away. He looked every bit the Hades he was, his coal eyes smoldering. Didn’t he know that he was setting her on fire? 

“Say you want it. Say you want me, all of me, that you’ll do anything.”

Hermione chewed on her lip. She wanted to comply, but she knew he wouldn’t give in yet. “I want all those things, Draco. I would do anything, but we’ve agreed to wait. Right now, I just want you to take my mind off Ron.”

He smirked, “Gladly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to put a little date marker in this chapter, just so all you readers know where we're at in the scheme of things. (It's also for myself as well) I hope it wasn't too jarring! Thanks ever so much for reading. <3


	26. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione needs a distraction and Draco can't talk her out of a crazy plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There be some lemony goodness here, mateys!

_ Previously... _

_ “Say you want it. Say you want me, all of me, that you’ll do anything.” _

_ Hermione chewed on her lip. She wanted to comply, but she knew he wouldn’t give in yet. “I want all those things, Draco. I would do anything, but we’ve agreed to wait. Right now, I just want you to take my mind off Ron.” _

_ He smirked, “Gladly.” _

* * *

“To clarify, I meant the fact that he left--” Draco didn’t let her finish her sentence, kissing her soundly.

He swallowed her moan as his thumb brushed the hard peak of her nipple through her jumper. Draco growled when he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. He’d noticed earlier that her breasts had bounced a little more, but he thought it had been his imagination. 

Rucking the sweater up, Draco filled his hands with her ample bosom. Instead of pleasured sighs, he was alarmed by Hermione’s squealing, unable to get away from him as she was pressed into the wall. 

“C-cold hands,” she stuttered. 

Draco was bewildered by her reaction and was tempted to laugh, but he cast a warming charm on his hands before returning them to her breasts. “Sorry, love,” he muttered against the inside of her breast where he nipped lightly at the sensitive skin.

“S’okay,” she answered through parted lips. She was making those mewling noises that made him harder than steel. 

The faintly floral taste of her made him nearly break his vow not to deflower her before they wed. He wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to consume her and for her to consume him. They were hurtling along that trajectory with every millisecond they spent together. The longer he had her, the more he wanted from her, of her, with her.

Hungrily, he sucked her nipple into his mouth, teeth grazing it. Her chest was heaving, pushing her breasts toward him like a ripe offering to the god of the dead.

_ Hermione _ , his soul seemed to call for her, or was it his magical core? The yearning was deeper than he’d ever felt for a person. She’d called it  _ love _ , but was it? He’d give into it no matter what, but not fully until he could claim her as his. 

His hand slipped between them and into her leggings. Draco’s jaw went slack, losing its grip on her supple flesh when he found no evidence of knickers. His fingers ventured through the patch of hair on her mound to her engorged button begging for attention.

Her thighs trembled around him as she panted his name over and over like an erotic melody.  _ Draco… Draco… Draco… _ Wetness seeped out of her as his fingers lightly traced her labia, the heel of his palm barely brushing her clit. He had her on the edge.

“Fuck!” she gasped as he simultaneously shoved a finger inside her, ground his hand roughly against her apex, and sucked her nipple hard enough to bruise.

Hermione spasmed around his finger so tightly that he couldn’t even move his hand until her inner muscles released it along with a wave of juices dripping onto his hands and her thighs. Another finger joined the first and pumped her slowly through the aftermath of her orgasm. Her hips moved with his hand, wet squelching was the only sound in the room besides their heavy breathing.

The wall was the only thing holding her up. “Hermione,” he whispered. 

“Hmmm?”

“Push your leggings down for me, love. We wouldn’t want them to get wet.”

She complied with shaking hands, whimpering as he pulled his fingers out to help her step out of her leggings. He positioned her legs wider, her muscles quivering. On his knees, Draco started at her upper calf and trailed kisses up her inner thigh. Once he reached the slippery skin close to her apex, Draco lifted her right leg over his shoulder and continued to tease her, tasting her spend dripping down her thighs.

Hermione was a moaning mess above him as he lightly circled her bud with his tongue. Her hips canted toward his mouth as he shoved his fingers back in. He heard a groan and a thud as her head fell heavily back against the wall. Draco chanced a glance up at his goddess and saw she was playing with her breasts, lightly pulling at her nipples.

“Fuuuck,” he mumbled against her mound as his pants felt tighter and tighter.

He needed to make her cum again, so he slid his fingers out of her squeezing snatch and gripped both of her arse cheeks with his hands. She whimpered at the loss until he slipped his tongue into her pussy after licking up her puffy lips. Draco speared her with his tongue like a little cock, a rush of her juices exploding into his mouth.

Her hand gripped his hair, now sweaty from his efforts. She rode his tongue by instinct and came all over his face until her spend was dripping down his chin. Draco slurped at her labia as he pulled away lest she suffocates and drowns him simultaneously -- not that he really minded.

Before she could slide down the wall as he stiffly stood, Draco scooped her up and carried her boneless body to her ensuite bathroom. He placed her on the small chair next to her vanity while he ran a bath for her. 

***

Draco had made her feel as though she were floating on a heavenly cloud, pleasure radiating through every cell in her body. Hermione felt drowsy and satisfied as she welcomed the warm bathwater’s delicate massage. She couldn’t be too surprised when Draco slipped in behind her to wash her with foam and explore her wet skin. 

His moan rumbled through her spine as her arse slid against his hard shaft. He seemed to read her mind when he assured her, “This is all for you, Persephone. It’s a pleasure to give you pleasure, love.”

Hermione hadn’t realized she’d started to doze off, her head using his chest as a pillow until he gently roused her. He helped her out of the tub and wrapped her in a fluffy towel before carrying her to her bed for some much-needed rest. 

“Thank you, Draco,” she barely remembered to say before she drifted off.

***

A few days later, she suggested they go for a long jog. Hermione had some cabin fever after only visiting the library, Draco’s rooms, and her own for nearly a month. He winced at her announcement. 

“What?” she asked suspiciously.

Draco ruffled his hair. “Outside of the palace, I can’t be sure that we won’t have unwelcome visitors anymore.”

Hermione frowned. He wasn’t wrong, but she felt like a caged bird. Draco was looking at her like she was a bomb ready to explode when she finally came to a solution.

“Got any polyjuice potion?” His brow furrowed. 

“I may have some in my potions cabinet… but we have no one to disguise you as.”

She gave him a malicious grin. “Did you ever clean the guest room linens?”

Draco’s face turned a deathly pale white and his mouth open and shut silently a few times. He shook his head at her.

“Hermione, I know you want to get out for a bit, but we can find another solution. A notice-me-not charm should do well enough!”

She scoffed. “Any wizard powerful enough to be a Death Eater will see right through that!”

He huffed indignantly. “I don’t like this, Hermione. I don’t know if I can see you… look like her.”

“Like Hecate or Astoria?” she teased darkly to his chagrin.


	27. The Vale

_ Previously: _

_He huffed indignantly. “I don’t like this, Hermione. I don’t know if I can see you… look like her.”_

_“Like Hecate or Astoria?” she teased darkly to his chagrin._

* * *

“How did you talk me into this charade?” Draco whined as he waited for her transformation.

Sitting on her bed with his head in his hands, he couldn’t look up until he felt her standing over him. His stomach lurched at the thought of seeing Astoria again even though it was actually Hermione. Draco felt guilty for using Astoria, for modifying her memory, if it was for a good cause.

The knot of guilt inside him twisting more as he saw Astoria before him dressed in her Slytherin school uniform. The thought of kissing her again sickened him.

“Close your eyes for a second,” Astoria said with Hermione’s voice. Draco complied, but he swallowed bile as hands carded through his hair.

Hermione whispered huskily in his ear, “After the potion wears off, I’ll suck you off while I’m in this Slytherin uniform. You can bind my hands behind my back with the tie if you want.”

Imagining the scenario she described made him instantly hard; it was so fast that he felt lightheaded. She giggled in his ear, breath tickling his neck. He kept his eyes closed for a second longer.

“Hermione, can you do me a favor?” he choked out, trying to calm himself.

“Anything, love.”

“Don’t touch me while you look like her. I don’t think I could stand it.”

“Of course, Draco,” she said sympathetically. “Hands off until I’m back to normal.”

“I dunno if I would call you ‘normal,’” he snarked, opening his eyes. Draco winced when Hermione sent a stinging jinx his way before they left her chambers.

***

Relief similar to the pleasure that Draco had immersed her in the other day coursed through her veins as they walked along the river. She was even more enthusiastic about their adventure back out into the Underworld’s realm when Draco offered to take her to a place that Snape had shown him. 

“How long do you reckon it will last?” Draco asked her, eyeing her new form warily. 

“It’s difficult to say exactly, but if Snape brewed it, then at least an hour.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as they walked to their intended destination. Hermione marveled at the scent of the air blowing along the river -- like a stale seaside, but fresher than the palace. It made her want to skip like the schoolgirl she was dressed as. Astoria was a few years younger, so her appearance was definitely more youthful. She knew it bothered Draco, but it was the safest way for them to venture out together.

To take his mind off her bothersome form, she confided in him. “Do you remember in second year when I was absent from class for a week?” 

“Faintly,” he answered, not looking at her. Hermione imagined he was trying to pretend she was still herself.

Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to bring up the year he’d said she wished she and all the other muggleborns were dead -- though he’d used the slur instead. Hermione wanted to make him laugh, though.

“Harry and Ron were convinced you were the heir of Slytherin, but they wanted to see if they could get you to admit it, so I brewed polyjuice potion and tricked Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent Bulstrode to get some hairs from them.”

Draco stopped to stare at her but immediately turned away at the sight of her darkened hair and green eyes. She smiled triumphantly to herself at both shocking and impressing him.

“It figures you’d have brewed polyjuice potion successfully during second year,” he drawled and kept walking. 

She snorted lightly. “I wouldn’t call it a complete success… You see I had to send Harry and Ron by themselves as Crabbe and Goyle. I didn’t turn into Millicent, you see. The hairs I plucked from her robes were cat hairs…” 

Hermione saw him mulling over the information. “You--you turned into a-a cat?” he stuttered, astonished.

She barked a laugh, wishing she could poke him in the sides. It took him a second to join her laughter until they had to stop because Draco was clutching his stomach, tears of hilarity streaming down his face. He heaved in breaths trying to calm himself and continue walking. 

He shook his head in disbelief. “I bet Madam Pomfrey had a field day with that.”

Hermione grinned. “Quite. She lectured me for nearly an hour, but I could tell she was quite impressed with the skill required to accidentally turn oneself into a feline.”

She could see Draco’s profile smirking. “Just up here, love.”

Hermione’s breath caught at the complete decimation of the burnt earth in the valley below them. It was haunting and somewhat beautiful in its sadness.

“The Vale of Mourning,” Draco said as they surveyed the land. “Snape said you could potentially summon or glimpse the shade of someone you lost here.”

An icy finger seemed to trail down her spine at the thought of seeing the ghost of a familiar redhead descending into the valley. Cold dread and grief gripped her as if a shade had passed through her body again. It was suffocating and intense, nearly bringing her down to the blackened ground. 

“Is this teenage courtship these days, Lucius?” a hissing voice said from behind them. 

Vertigo seemed to sweep across Hermione’s vision as she heard rather than saw Draco whirl around. She thought she was going to faint. 

“I dare say I’d be surprised if it is, my Lord,” another familiar voice drawled. 

Darkness was closing in on her. Hermione struggled to breathe, to speak, as she barely gasped, “Draco!”    


***

Inwardly panicking, Draco slipped an arm around her mid-back and drew her protectively into his side. The blank mask of boredom took over his features, but his fingers dug into Astoria’s ribs, knuckles white.

“My Lord... Father,” he acknowledged the two wizards who’d snuck up on them with a humble nod. “It appears Astoria has been taken ill with grief upon seeing a glimpse of her dearly departed mother in the valley.”

The girl in his arms choked on a sob. Either Hermione was playing the part or perhaps she had seen something. Draco tried to push the horror of that thought away as he absently stroked her hair. 

“Last we spoke, you corrected me on courtship rules, did you not, Draco?” his father asked, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

Draco’s only betrayal was the firm line his mouth made before he answered: “As my Lord may know, being King of the Underworld is a solitary role, and so I have no choice but to break the courtship rules.”

Lord Voldemort chuckled darkly. “Ah, young Draco, well spoken. You will make Severus proud.”

“I hope to please your Lordship as well,” Draco groused, his lies making his head throb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Elisabeth226, MythalGivesYouDreams, and Banditochronicles for your steady comments!!


	28. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unexpected encounter continues and Hermione deals with the aftermath.

_ Previously: _

_ Lord Voldemort chuckled darkly. “Ah, young Draco, well-spoken. You will make Severus proud.” _

_ “I hope to please your Lordship as well,” Draco groused, his lies making his head throb. _

* * *

The dark wizard’s malicious grin was enough to turn his insides into putty. His father’s eyes were still examining him and the girl in his arms. 

“Will Miss Greengrass be staying the weekend or will she return to Hogwarts?” 

“We must see if she’s well enough to return, but if not, I will be here to check on her and the elves always take attentive care of her.” Draco felt Astoria/Hermione stir out of her stupor.

“Apologies, my Lord and Mr. Malfoy,” the girl said slowly, her voice meek. “If you do not mind, I would like Draco to escort me back to the guest room where I might rest.” 

She kept her head lowered, but peered up at his father and the dark wizard through her eyelashes. Draco solidified his Occlusion walls, his mind blank even as he felt the twin stares of interest from the wizards in front of them. 

“By all means, young Malfoy, please see your lovely, pure witch back to her chambers,” Voldemort sibilated, his red slitted eyes making Draco’s stomach churn involuntarily.

Draco made the executive decision to carry his witch bridal style back to Hades’ palace, passing between his father and the Dark Lord like parted seas. Astoria’s arms were draped around his neck and he desperately tried to pretend they were Hermione’s. He didn’t look at her once as he carried her. 

Once they made it into the palace, Draco apparated them directly into her chambers. He felt the wards allow him through, brushing his magical aura, as they landed on the plush carpeting. His knees collapsed underneath him as he curled protectively over his witch, his goddess. Dry sobs of relief mixed with fear wracked his body as they huddled together on the floor. 

She was stroking his hair, his back, his chest, anywhere she could reach. Draco wanted to recoil, but he knew Hermione had to break her promise not to touch him. After all, he’d made the decision for her when he’d pulled her into him as she panicked in the Vale. He never wanted to see his lioness, his goddess cowering before anyone again. And yet, who was he to think that? He’d been quaking inwardly at the unannounced arrival of his father and the Dark Lord.

“You were right,” he mumbled into her shoulder, the wool of her cardigan itching his face. If she hadn’t been polyjuiced as Astoria, everything would have been over. His life, her life: everything. 

What could have been hours or minutes later brought stiffness to his joints as they remained tangled on the floor. Draco was relieved to see chocolate brown curls and golden skin beneath him. He pulled her into his lap and hugged her, her chin hooked over his shoulder, her legs straddling his thighs. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. He pulled away to look at her bronze eyes filled with unshed tears. 

Draco shook his head at her and kissed her gently on the forehead. “Don’t be sorry, Hermione. It was an impossible situation… If anything your reaction made it easier for us to leave them.”

She sniffled and blinked away the tears. “I-I thought for a second I saw Ron… and I j-just crumbled. It wasn’t him, it couldn’t have been.” 

“Come on, love, let’s get you into a bath,” he said, lifting her to stand. 

Draco started walking toward her ensuite bath, but noticed she was standing stock-still where he’d left her. His breath hitched at the full effect of Hermione Granger wearing a Slytherin uniform: the silver and green striped tie, snake seal badge, and charcoal pleated skirt shorter than she’d ever worn in school. What he wouldn’t give to have her on her bare knees in those delectable high stockings, creamy thighs barely teasing him from under the skirt. He’d wrap the tie around her wrists--- 

He quickly swallowed any plans of ravishing her down after the ordeal they just had, saving the image for his wank bank in the sealed Occlumency compartment he’d made exclusively for her. 

“C’mon, Granger,” he drawled teasingly. She quirked a smile and followed him.

“I thought you--”

“Another time, love. I’ll put the uniform in your closet while you’re soaking in the tub,” he interrupted her smoothly and winked.

Hermione seemed relieved as he watched her undress. His resolve weakened with each piece of clothing that dropped to the marble floor. 

She bit her lip, looking over her shoulder at him standing in the doorway. “You’re quite good lying on your feet, Draco.”

For a second, he thought she was referring to his raincheck on her offer to suck him off in the uniform, but then he realized she meant his performance for Voldemort and his father. Draco grimaced and shrugged.

“I haven’t lied to you since--”

“--you first brought me here,” she finished for him as she lowered her naked body into the steaming water. “I know, Draco. You had your chance to betray me more than once, I completely trust you.”

His heart stuttered in his chest. Hermione Granger trusted him completely. He blinked a few times to ensure this wasn’t a dream. 

She giggled at his bewilderment. Draco cleared his throat before saying, “Make sure you scrub all that Astoria off your skin before I return.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him as he left to confront his father who would undoubtedly be making an appearance at his office, if he wasn’t already waiting there. Draco had years of dealing with Death Eaters and the Dark Lord; no amount of scrubbing could ever rid him of all the grime and blood.

***

Hermione summoned the journal from the other room as she soaked in the tub. She knew it would bring nothing but disappointment, but that small ball of hope was nestled deep inside her heart that Harry and Ron would be okay. To say she felt powerless was an understatement and the fact that her eyes had tricked her into seeing Ron’s shade made it even worse. Falling to pieces in front of Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy was just the icing on the crap cake that her day of freedom had turned out to be. 

She sighed and opened the journal. No update from Harry, but she assumed she’d get one once he moved the camp. He’d been resistant at first, but she warned him that snatchers could happen upon them at any time, so it was best to keep moving despite Ron’s disappearance. 

While she knew it was a childish deadline, she hoped there would be news of Ron before Christmas. Would they ever know what happened to him? What if he became one of those unnamed casualties in this war? Her eyes stung from the tears she was trying to hold back. 

Hermione had thought she’d been in love with Ron, but would he have ever reciprocated? Did she simply fall for the idea of him? The idea that she would finally win over the boy who’d at first shunned her as a friend? Her laugh echoed in the tiled bathroom. Draco Malfoy had been the same, more or less, hadn’t he? And she’d fallen for him… Was it her trying to prove Ron and Draco wrong? That she wasn’t just a bushy-haired know-it-all? 

She’d been trying to prove everyone wrong her entire life. When her magic had manifested as a child, Hermione had tried to show her parents that it wasn’t out of the ordinary and when the psychologists tried to put her into therapy, she tried to convince them that it wasn’t all in her head. Her Hogwarts acceptance letter had been nothing short of proof that she had been right. She’d thought that would be the end of trying to prove herself. And yet, because of her Muggle background, she had been behind in terms of magical development and then she had to prove that her magically stunted childhood couldn’t hold her back. 

It was exhausting! One small victory about becoming Astoria Greengrass for an hour was that she didn’t have to prove herself. Astoria was a normal, pureblooded witch who barely had a care in the world besides that she’d been shunned by Draco Malfoy. This was another win for Hermione, but it also put her in danger. However, she didn’t know if she’d be any better off hiding with Harry in a tent with Ron gone than with Draco in the Underworld. 

She was brought out of her musings by the cooled bathwater. Magically, Hermione warmed it up again to finish rinsing her hair. When she crawled into bed, she instantly felt her body go limp and her mind drift off.


	29. Father and Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco confronts his father, his and Hermione's interaction with him and Voldemort haunting him. Are they safe in the Underworld?

Draco took a deep breath before entering his office. The stench of dark magic seemed to have abated, which meant that Voldemort had left… hopefully for good. He knew Hermione’s wards were strong, but the Dark Lord was a magical anomaly and had unpredictable mood swings. Voldemort had been Hades at one point and probably knew the Underworld better than Draco, especially since he’d been able to find and open the Chamber of Secrets at Hogwarts. 

His father was sipping brandy near the beverage cart, leaning on his cane. The dim lighting hid the severe shadows from Lucius Malfoy’s haggard features. He was an excellent actor, just as he’d raised Draco to be; he knew how to play the aristocratic asshole.

“You changed your mind then, Draco?” his father said without preamble.

He grimaced and moved to sit at his desk. “About Astoria?”

Lucius smirked and Draco fought to roll his eyes. “Let’s just say I’m giving her another chance,” he clarified lest his father thought he was bending to his will. 

“Hm,” his father mused, taking a sip of his drink.

“What was the Dark Lord’s interest in visiting?”

Lucius’ lip curled. “He wanted to check in on the operations here, see how you’re faring.”

“He didn’t ask Uncle Severus?” Draco asked impetuously. “He was here weeks ago.”

“We all know reporting isn’t so reliable these days, so he came in person,” his father said haughtily.

Draco glared at the inkwell on his desk. “Does our lord require a full report?”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.”

The question ‘Is the Dark Lord still in the Underworld’ was on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t want to ask it. He didn’t want to draw any more suspicion. 

“How is Mother?” Draco asked instead.

His father waved his hand in an absent manner. “She’s the same as always, Draco. What I want to know is how your courtship with the Greengrass girl is progressing.”

If Draco had been drinking something, he would have spit it everywhere. His father was the master of nonsequiturs. Catching others off guard was his specialty. He struggled not to glower at the wizard who'd ruled his life since siring him.

"Father, I told you that we are taking this courtship slowly. We are still young, she much younger and more innocent in the ways of the world than I. She's a beautiful, sophisticated, smart, and capable witch, but we still need to get to know one another."

As a Slytherin, Draco knew the most convincing lie contained some truth, which his statement was partially true, except the witch he was referring to with such admirable qualities was Hermione and not Astoria. Despite this, he fortified his mind, keeping Astoria at the forefront in case his father tried to breach his thoughts again. 

“Need I remind you of the terms of claiming your inheritance as soon as you are finished with your role as King of the Underworld?” Lucius drawled, voice dripping with disdain. 

Draco’s stomach twisted. “I must be at least betrothed after proper courtship, if not married, by then,” he recited robotically. 

“Your mother seems to think you’ve already found your bride.” The knife in his gut twisted further. He held his father’s silver gaze that mirrored his own.

Indifferently, Draco answered, “Perhaps.”

"Continue with your work son, but If you step one toe out of line, Draco..." His father arched an eyebrow and swallowed the remaining liquor in his glass.

“Yes, Father.”

He watched the wizard exit with a swish of his robes and heard the clacking of his cane fade away down the hallway, his heartbeat slowing. It relieved him to confirm that his mother was on his side, but he knew his father wouldn’t stray from the Dark Lord unless there was a loophole or an exit plan. Part of him was still worried about Voldemort freely wandering around the Underworld and Hermione’s vulnerability. 

“Nobby!” he called before pouring himself a double of scotch and swallowing it in one gulp. 

The taste was still burning his innards when the elf popped into the center of the room. The house elf blinked at him expectantly. Nobby was Hades’ personal elf. Draco composed himself.

“Nobby, please summon Thanatos to my office. If he argues, drag him here yourself.”

The elf nodded and saluted him military-style and then disappeared with a _ crack! _ Draco remained standing behind his desk, the beginnings of a headache starting to pound against his temples. Fear takes a toll on the body, he noted. 

A few minutes later, Nobby reappeared with a disheveled Thanatos swearing up a storm. The elf with a severe expression left Theo spinning in the center of the room as it apparated away. Draco smirked as Theo fell on his arse across the Turkish rug. 

“What the fuck?” Thanatos repeated for the umpteenth time. 

Draco stood, palms braced on his desk, leaning towards his employee. “Where were you? Fucking another nymph?” 

“If I was, it was unsuccessful.”

“Do you know who waltzed into the Underworld today?”

Theo blinked at him. 

“My father and the Dark Lord, you insufferable twat! I told you to keep an eye on the wizarding world to Underworld traffic!” Draco spat at the wizard in front of him. 

Theo’s lip curled into a snarl. “I’m not your fucking guard dog, Draco. That’s what you have that three-headed monstrosity.”

Draco sighed. “Don’t make me throw you into the lake of souls again.” 

Thanatos blanched. “A-are th-they still here?”

Piercing silver eyes trained on his employee, Draco said, “You better discreetly find out.” He looked at his paperwork and not hearing Theo leave, he glared at him. 

“Run along, Theo.” He would have his answer soon, so Draco buckled down and got to sifting through paperwork. 

***

Hermione woke with a start and sensed it was still too early to be awake. Something had startled her. A slight noise outside her bedroom put her on red alert. Wand in hand, her heart was beating a harsh tattoo against her ribs as she made her way to the door, another creak sounding, and peeked through the crack. 

She sighed once she saw what had woken her. A blood-shot-eyed Draco Malfoy blinked manically at her as she leaned over the sofa arm. His hair was a ruffled mess and for some reason, besides the tiredness, he looked absolutely edible. 

“Draco, why are you sleeping here?”

“Didn’t want you to be alone,” he mumbled, his eyes now trained on her erect nipples poking against her pajamas. “Didn’t want to wake you.”

She ran the backs of his fingers over his cheek. “Come to bed, Draco.”

“Sorry,” he said through a long sigh as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. 

Hermione shook her head. “No need, love.”

In his exhausted state, Draco leaned against her, anchoring his arm across her back, hand on her opposite hip, as they walked into her bedroom. His arm slipped down to cup the swell of her arse cheek and he pulled her bodily into bed with him so they were splayed out in a tangle of limbs and sheets. 

“Should I put the uniform on?” she teased.

He groaned, silver eyes flashing like chrome in the darkness. The paleness of his bare skin seemed to glow like moonlight as he stretched out. It made Hermione want to touch him all over, to absorb the glow into her own body.

“It’s late, how ‘bout in the morning?” She smiled into the ethereal skin of his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to up the stakes little by little, escalating them slowly. Is it too slowly? Let me know in the comments. 
> 
> P.S. This is so much longer than I expected!!! WOW! But you all have been encouraging me to continue, so a huge thanks to all my readers. <3


	30. Senses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco engage in a bit of roleplay... and not the Persephone/Hades kind of roleplay ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER 30!!! Wow, this is the longest fic by chapters I've written. Thank you all for your readership and support!

Despite the interruption to her sleep, Hermione woke up early. Draco was passed out cold, exhausted by his meeting with his father. She wasn’t sure what had happened, but she knew he was concerned about his father’s and Voldemort’s presence yesterday. 

She slipped into her walk-in closet and put the uniform back on before charming to look like pajamas. Wanting Draco to sleep, she quietly went out to her sitting room to read and have a cup of tea. It was the perfect morning so far. 

An hour and a half later, after a few cups of tea and a scone and a few chapters of her book, Hermione heard some movement in the bedroom. She’d been keyed up ever since seeing how enthusiastic he’d been about this role-playing idea. Squeezing her thighs together, she waited for Draco to join her.

When he stepped out of the bedroom, she hit him with a silent spell that transfigured his sleep pants into wizarding robes. Wide-eyed, he looked down and then back to Hermione. She’d stood and revealed the uniform when he’d looked down at his new robes. Draco’s eyes smoldered, a shit-eating grin replacing the sleepy look on his face.

“Professor Malfoy?” she said, her voice slightly higher and shyer. Fidgeting, she peered up at him through her eyelashes. 

He straightened his posture and combed his hair back with his fingers. “Did you have a question, Ms. Granger?”

His authoritative voice sent shivers down her spine and started fanning the pool of desire in her core. She wiped her hands on the short skirt. Hermione felt like she was really playing the part, her nerves were somewhat real. 

He looked down his nose expectantly at her. “Professor, I know I did not successfully brew Amortentia yesterday and I was wondering if I could do some extra credit so my grade doesn’t suffer.”

The lump his Draco’s throat bobbed, his eyes dark with lust. “Tell me, Ms. Granger. Did you happen to smell a perfected potion yesterday?” 

She nodded. “And what did you smell?”

Her legs quivered and wished she wasn’t standing. “I smelled mint toothpaste, green apples, and woodsmoke, sir.” That’s what he smelled like to her: a little fresh, sweet and earthy. 

Draco walked towards the center of the room, head bowed in thought. He spun on his heel to face her. A thrill shot through her at his perusal from the demure mary janes on her feet, up the knee-high socks where they met her knees and then up her smooth thighs, across the pleated skirt, lingering on the way the sweater hugged her curves and came to the striped tie resting between her breasts. 

She chewed on her lip while he inspected her. “Are you prepared for your extra credit now?” he drawled, his eyes finally meeting hers.

“Yes, sir.” His eyes continued to glow darkly as he casually pushed his robes out of the way to put his hands on his trouser-clad hips. With the draping material out of the way, she traced the outline of his hardening cock pressing against the zipper.

She knew this was turning him on. “Take your tie off, Miss Granger,” he ordered huskily. 

Hermione quickly complied, the silk slipping out of the knot easily and held it in front of her. While she knew what he was going to demand, knowing didn’t make it any less arousing. 

He eyed her wolfishly. “Very good. Now, bring it here and stand right in front of me.”

She forced herself not to rush over to him, but took measured steps toward him until she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. His height seemed more exaggerated in the authoritative role and it made her knees wobbly. The warmth of his hands surprised her as he gently slid the ribbon from her light grasp, the smooth fabric making her skin buzz with apprehension.

“Make a fist with one hand, Miss Granger.” She complied swiftly. “Now bring both hands behind your back, open hand over your fist… Excellent.”

The praise made her body hum as if she were a struck tuning fork. Receiving praise had always felt good, but she hadn’t thought about being sexually stimulated by it. She didn’t think she’d ever been attracted to a professor…. Except Lockhart before he was exposed as a fraud.

Hermione gasped, brought out of her thoughts by her vision being obscured by the silk tie. She hadn’t expected this use of the tie. Her shoulders quivered from the position as his warm breath skated down her neck.

“Is this okay, Hermione?” he whispered out of character. She didn’t hesitate to respond with a quick nod.

“Answer verbally, Miss Granger,” Draco corrected her loudly enough that she nearly jumped.

“Yes, sir.” She could almost hear his smile as he returned to stand in front of her, his footsteps deliberate so she knew where he was.

Hermione heard him summon something nearby under his breath. “Kneel, Miss Granger.”

She swallowed, her mouth watering at the thought of how his cock would feel on her tongue. Following instructions, she had thought her knees would hit the carpet, but when they rested on a pillow, she knew he’d summoned it moments before. Licking her lips, Hermione waited for instructions. 

Her nerves tingled as she heard his zipper lower slowly and the light sound of his pants hitting the floor. Her palm was sweating around her fist. It was both thrilling and nerve-wracking to not see him. She hoped he was stroking his cock and watching her squirm.

Draco started lecturing. “Miss Granger, mastering potions requires one to be a master of one’s senses. Smell, taste, touch, and sound. You are now deprived of your sight and I already know your sense of smell is apt enough. You will now tell me what you taste.” 

Hermione couldn’t swallow her moan as the burning hot, fleshy head of his cock pressed against her lips, precum allowing it to slide along the top and then bottom lip before her tongue darted out to taste it. Draco grunted and pulled away.

“Well?” he prompted, panting.

She made a show of licking her lips in a way that was hopefully sexy. “It tastes musky and it’s a viscous fluid. May I have a second taste, Professor Malfoy?” 

She definitely heard Draco moan low in his chest from her proximity to him. 

“If you must,” he drawled, trying to sound exasperated but it ended up twinged with desperation.

He placed the head on the pillow of her bottom lip, her tongue darting out to catch any stray liquid oozing out. She moaned in appreciation of the taste. Hermione tried to get him to push fully into her mouth, but he pulled away again. Their heavy breathing filled the room.

“It’s salty… is it some kind of brine solution?” she teased innocently. 

He cleared his throat and admonished her with, “While that answer might be acceptable in a muggle studies class, such solutions have no place in potions, Miss Granger.”

“I’m sorry, Professor. I can’t identify this… ingredient by taste. Can I have more context?”

Hermione heard him smirk above her. “It’s a key ingredient to reproduction.”

She wet her lips and rolled her shoulders that were starting to ache from holding the position. Her hips shifted, hoping to gain so friction on her throbbing core. 

“What if I allow you more of your sense of touch?” Draco asked rhetorically as his hand grabbed onto the curls at the back of her neck and guided his cock to her lips once more.

She knew this was it. He slid the girth along her tongue, her jaw opening all the way and closing to suction around the first few inches of his length. Her mouth started to water as precum oozed onto her tongue. Hermione suckled a little and his hips bucked slightly, his hand tightening in her hair. 

He was so hard on her mouth she thought he would burst at any second, especially with the shallow breathing above her. “Very good, Miss Granger, taking all that into your swotty mouth. Every time you raise your hand and open your mouth in my lectures, I want to stuff it.”

Hermione moaned around his cock. His hips jolted at the sensation and she tried to relax her throat and suppress her gag reflex. In theory, it was easier, but without her hands, she couldn’t stop him from entering her throat. She knew spittle was escaping her lips at his shallow thrusts. 

“Can you take more… extra credit, Miss Granger?” She nodded as well as she could full of his cock and hummed around his girth. Hermione heard him swear under his breath.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to do her best to allow more of his stiff rod into her mouth. She swallowed once the mushroom head of him reached the back of her tongue. Draco released a wanton groan and she was able to swallow some of him down. 

She breathed through her nose and tried not to panic when he thrust a few times. His hand pulled her curls so her head tilted up and more of him breached her esophagus. When Hermione swallowed again, she felt his entire cock pulse, and then he was pulling out until just the head of him rested on her tongue. Draco shot ropes of cum at her sore throat and then removed himself to cover her slightly exposed chest -- where her tie had been -- with semen. 

Hermione was still panting when she felt his lips cover hers and steal her breath. He must be kneeling in front of her now, his tongue tasting his own flavor on hers. Draco kept whispering obscenities like “Salazar’s sack” and “Bloody hell, Hermione, that was so fuckin’ hot.” 

He removed the necktie from her eyes, she kept them closed. She pressed her breasts into him and wound her sore arms around his neck as he continued to snog her. Hermione was so aroused that she was breathless. 

She nearly had a heart attack with the floo in the sitting room lit up and a panicked male voice started calling Draco’s name. Draco tore himself from her, terror in his eyes that had been blown wide in pleasure minutes before. 

“Dammit, Theo! You’re not supposed to have access to this floo,” he growled dangerously.

An angry Thanatos called back, “I’m in your office after searching for you and figured you were there. Am I interrupting something?”

“What is it?” he bit out.

“Your aunt requested permission from the Dark Lord to visit you.”

Draco looked back at Hermione, both speechless until he stuttered out: “I’m assuming you don’t mean Andromeda.”


	31. Preparation

“Mother!” he bellowed into the fireplace. Draco was leaning over the hearth on all fours like an animal. His throat felt dry, heart beating as if he’d run a marathon. 

He screamed himself hoarse calling for her. “Draco?” his mother finally answered.

“For Slytherin’s sake, Mother! Why didn’t you answer sooner?” 

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, I do not appreciate your tone.”

He wanted to bang his head against the brick. “Mother, this is an emergency.” 

“What is it?” she asked, her voice high with worry.

Draco sighed and closed his eyes for a second. “Aunt Bella wants to visit me.”

There was silence from the other end of the floo call. For a second, he was concerned she might have left. His heart thumped out the seconds of tension.

“And you want to know if I’ll accompany her?” 

Ever the Slytherin, he thought. “Yes, and we need a plan. For Persephone.”

He glanced back at Hermione. She’d stopped trembling with a blanket swaddled around her, but her bottom lip was raw from her gnawing. 

Draco could almost hear his mother pursing her lips. “What do you suggest, son?”

“Do you have any polyjuice? Or better yet, can you see if Uncle Severus does?” He gave Hermione a reassuring smile to let her know he was okay with this plan as long as it protected her. 

There was a pause on the other end of the call followed by whiny “Cissy?”

Draco blanched. A muffled, “Oh Bella, we were just talking about you!” 

“Is that ickle Drakey?” the mocking baby voice of Bellatrix Lestrange filtered through. 

He swallowed thickly before replying. “Yes, Aunt Bella, I heard you were asking after me.”

“I want to visit you, my darling nephew! You’re King of the Underworld, such a big responsibility for a young boy.”

A sweat broke out at his hairline. He flinched as Hermione put her hand on his shoulder. Even though Bella couldn’t see them, he was apprehensive about her being anywhere near his aunt. 

“When can I expect you, Aunt Bella? Will Uncle Rodolphus be accompanying you?” 

“I’ll come down at the end of the week, Drakey. Your Uncle is away on business.”

Before he could respond, his mother chimed in. “I’ll accompany you, Bella. I haven’t seen my son in at least a month.”

“I’ll expect you both on Friday, then. I’ll give you the grand tour,” Draco said with as much bravado as he could muster. 

“Excellent!” his aunt squealed and his mother bid him goodbye.

***

Hermione’s brain wouldn’t stop whirring and worrying after the Floo call with Draco’s mother and aunt. She went over every possible scenario, every weak point, and didn’t shut up until Draco started to distract her. And how did he do that?

Draco knelt before her as she continued to spout ideas and thoughts, lifted up the pleated uniform skirt, and brought her hips forward to meet his mouth. At first, she protested the sexual intrusion, which ended with her slumped back on the settee with her knees hooked over Draco’s broad shoulders and hands raking through his hair as he devoured her pussy. He didn’t stop licking and nibbling as her second orgasm crested, her back arching off the cushions. She squeezed his long fingers inside of her, shuddering.

He conjured a handkerchief and wiped her excess juices off before cuddling with her on the sofa. Hermione was boneless and floating in his arms, the scent of him welcoming in her nostrils. Her mind quieted as she fell asleep on his shoulder. 

She woke with a start sometime later in a cold sweat and alone. Bellatrix had haunted her dreams again. And this time, the dark witch’s voice had been fresh in her mind. Hermione took deep breaths, trying to bury the nightmares as Draco had taught her with rudimentary Occlumency. 

He must have left tea under a stasis charm for when she woke and then she saw a note under the teaspoon. 

> _ I hope you had a pleasant nap, love. I’m meeting with Snape today at Hogwarts during his planning time. I’ll be back for dinner. _
> 
> _ Kisses,  _
> 
> _ Draco _
> 
> _ P.S. I’ll find you in the library later. _

Hermione smiled. He knew her too well. It was nearly December and the mention of Hogwarts made her nostalgic. She missed the Scottish winters at the castle, the windows frosted, the large tree in the Great Hall, and the anticipation of going home. 

None of that would happen this year. Hogwarts was being run by Death Eaters, her parents didn’t know she existed, and she was trapped in the Underworld with the impending arrival of the witch who Draco has been trying to protect her from. The change was enough to make Hermione want to tear her hair out. They had less than 48 hours to prepare. 

She took her time getting ready to head to the library and nibbled at some of the biscuits before taking the long stroll down the hallway. Hermione focused on protection and concealment magic in her research for the day. Once she’d exhausted the material, she tried looking again for locator spells, but it was complex magic that would take a while to learn. Much longer than the toll of Ron’s unknown whereabouts would take on her and Harry.

Later, Liri popped in to check on her and offered her refreshments. Hermione’s stomach was in knots from Bellatrix’s impending visit and Ron’s disappearance, so she didn’t feel hungry. When Liri pushed her, she assented to a light snack of crisps. The elf frowned at her choice, but fetched some crips anyway. 

***

Hermione felt sick to her stomach on the morning of Bellatrix’s visit. She and Draco had rehearsed everything, nearly line by line, though she knew she’d have to improvise. The only saving grace was not having to do anything with her hair before transforming into Astoria.

“Hermione, you have to eat something, love. Keep your strength up,” Draco urged, holding out a decadent pastry. 

She nodded absently and took a few bites. The sugar burst onto her tongue and seemed to jolt her out of the fog. Hermione had never had many sweets as a child, just the occasional indulgence, since her parents were dentists and knew the effect of sugar on the teeth and overall health.

Draco’s appearance was extensively refined today. His black three-piece suit was partially hidden by charcoal, impeccably tailored dress robes. The Malfoy signature blonde locks were coiffed back, but not so severely as he had worn as a snotty child. He’d come a long way since first year, Hermione thought and smiled. 

“What?” he glanced at her before sipping his tea.

She shook her head. “Nothing, just admiring you.” 

Draco scoffed, but couldn’t stop a smile from his lips. “Will you be okay?” she asked.

“I can’t lie, love, I’m at my wit's end, but I’ve got it all locked up in here.” He tapped his finger to his temple. 

They held hands as they made their way to the exit of the palace. Instead of the Slytherin Hogwarts uniform, Hermione wore a demure dress that a perfect pureblooded princess would wear. Mrs. Malfoy -- Narcissa as she’d asked Hermione to call her -- had provided the garments and gave recommendations about mannerisms. Hermione had had to resist rolling her eyes at the etiquette instructions. It’s not as if she’d been raised in a barn! Nevertheless, the preparation would hopefully help.

“Ready?” Draco asked before turning the door handle.

Hermione grimaced at the taste of the potion. She waited to change into Astoria before answering, “I’m ready when you are, dear,” in her simpering pureblood voice.

“You may need to tone it down,  _ darling _ ,” Draco snarked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made need some of your patience in the coming weeks. I haven't written a word more than this current chapter at this moment, so I feel like I may be a bit behind and not post for a few weeks or the next chapter might be shorter. I hate to leave you on a cliffhanger, but I just wanted to let you know, my lovely readers, that it may be longer before the next chapter is posted!


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The infamous Bellatrix visits the Hades and Hecate/Persephone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you readers for all your support and patience! Also, check out the new aesthetic I made for this fic in the beginning of Chapter 1!

At least Hermione was playing her part, but his aunt seemed to be in rare form today. He swallowed his resolve and forged on with the short tour from the gates to the palace. 

His mother was a good mediator. She always had been with his father and him, and he guessed that she'd been having more practice with her unstable sister recently. 

They met his mother and aunt at the gates where Hermes had brought them with a devious smile. Draco held his breath when Blaise had noticed Astoria, but the trickster had simply winked. It made his stomach roil. 

“Oh Miss Greengrass!” his mother said excitedly. “How lovely to see you. Draco didn’t tell me you’d be accompanying him.”

The girl’s watery blue eyes glanced at him and her thin lips admonished him, “Oh Draco, how could you not mention to your mother that I was visiting this weekend! I hate to be intruding on a family affair.”

She turned a pleasant smile on the Black sisters. “Oh, I do not mind at all, dear. Bella?”

The sharp features of Bellatrix Lestrange seemed to cut into the silence like a blade. Draco had to suppress a shiver at the thought of the premonition. His aunt’s eyes and hair were dark as well as her ensemble. Her massive, coiling curls were flying haphazardly like an ominous cloud of smoke.

“Not at all, my dear. I’m delighted to be better acquainted with my nephew’s intended.”

Astoria’s eyes widened as his own narrowed at his mother. Bellatrix giggled obscenely at the reaction that her faux pas had created. His aunt’s greying teeth showed and her eyes were as bright as twin  _ lumos _ . 

“Bella… I don’t believe these two have expressed any definitive intentions,” his mother stepped in.

His aunt shot her sister a glare at ruining her fun. “We’re still courting,” Astoria explained breezily. Draco breathed a little easier with the pressure from his aunt’s assumption blowing over.

“And how long have you been courting Miss Greengrass, Draco?”

“About a month,” he said, slotting Astoria’s arm through his as they walked along the river. 

Her hand gripped his bicep and made him feel steadier. He reminded himself that it was Hermione and not actually Astoria. 

His mother jumped in, “Will you be visiting for the entire weekend, Miss Greengrass?”

He saw Astoria glance over her shoulder with a serene smile at the pair of older women. “While I treasure spending time with Draco, I have schoolwork to attend to, so I plan on returning later this evening.” 

“Very good. I’m sure you are a wonderfully attentive student, Miss Greengrass. I hate to think my Draco’s education has been postponed by this post, but I’m sure you keep him apprised of your studies,” his mother responded. 

“Yes, of course, Mrs. Malfoy.” 

The four of them reached the palace doors without any more inflammatory comments from Bellatrix. It seemed like the calm before the storm to Draco.

***

They appeared to be holding their own against the dark witch, Hermione thought, hoping it would last. She’d charmed her watch to have a mirrored surface that was concealed to everyone else but her. Discreetly, she’d check her appearance to ensure Astoria’s visage still remained. Snape had told Draco that the potion would last at worst an hour and at best three without any doses. 

“Shall we have tea in my office?” Draco suggested.

His mother replied, “That sounds lovely, son.” 

“Quite.” Bellatrix’s tone was clipped, suspicious. 

Hermione took a deep breath to calm her nerves. The dark witch was up to something, waiting like a snake in the grass to strike. It helped to have Draco attached to her as they walked.

“I never thought the Underworld would be so beautiful,” Bellatrix commented with a wistful smile.

She saw Draco grimace. “I thought the Dark Lord would have invited you here during his tenure,” he responded lightly. 

Bellatrix cackled. “Unfortunately, I was rather busy gathering our lord’s followers for his uprising at the time. I can tell it would have been quite the adventure if I had, though.”

By Bellatrix’s smarmy smile, Hermione could tell she meant a sexual adventure with Voldemort. It was enough to make her nearly gag at the thought. She swallowed the bile back down and checked her Occlumency walls.

His aunt had been the one to train Draco on how to use Occlumency, so Hermione could only surmise that she was a powerful witch and would most likely be a respectable Legilimens. 

“You’re rather quiet, girl,” Bellatrix addressed her abruptly. “What do you think of all this Underworld business?”

The group was just entering Draco’s office as the question was asked. Hermione steeled herself to answer as Draco summoned their tea. Before this ordeal, she had instructed the elf to pour some polyjuice potion into one of the cups and to mark it with a flower-embossed teaspoon. 

“It’s rather fascinating, really, Mrs. Lestrange.” Her breath froze in her lungs as Bellatrix held up a pale hand. 

“Dear child, no need to call me “Mrs.,” Bellatrix will do.” Hermione let her breath slowly out.

She nodded and continued, “Draco’s shown me all the plant life that grows down here, which is surprising and unsurprising at the same time. It’s certainly been supplementing my herbology and potions classes.”

His stoic face twitched into a rye smile considering her first unwilling visit to the underworld. Liri popped in with the tea service and poured four cups on the cart feet away from the group. The elf floated the tea over to the table, the tray spinning in mid-air slowly. Hermione tried not to stare too intently at the cup with her spoon. 

“Tell me, Miss Greengrass, is Snape a good teacher? Draco’s always been partial to him, but he’s his godfather. I imagine you know him well as head of Slytherin house,” Bellatrix asked as she splashed milk into her tea. 

“Yes, he has always been my favorite professor. I regret that this year the curriculum has been lacking since Professor Snape has assumed the duties of Headmaster.”

“He was always quite shifty and creative, our Severus. Right, Cissy?” 

Mrs. Malfoy took a dainty sip of her tea. “I dare say so. He has always been an excellent, loyal friend to our family.”

“The Dark Lord has always trusted Severus, though I suspect that Dumbledore has poisoned his mind over the years at Hogwarts.”

She heard Draco’s harrumph, which to her sounded like dissent, but his aunt took it as agreement. Hermione refrained from bristling at the mention of the late headmaster by taking a sip of her tea, which for a second she forgot was spiked with polyjuice. She started sputtering and coughing into her napkin at the foul taste.

Draco’s hand rubbed her back soothingly as she recovered. She was embarrassed and hoped that her flush would cover her fear that they would be discovered. Luckily, her tea hadn’t spilled in her fit. 

“Apologies, Mrs. Malfoy and Bellatrix. Seems I must have inhaled a little of the tea too quickly.”

Draco’s mother gave her a sympathetic smile, but Bellatrix’s interest in her was surely piqued. His aunt’s eyes glittered like coal. 

“And you have a sister, Daphne, right?” Bellatrix inquired.

Hermione smiled easily at the thought of Hera who had been so kind to her. “Yes, Daphne has been blessed with the role of Hera and unfortunately she didn’t do well on her OWLs, so she has been rather focusing on her role as Draco has.”

“I’m sure she loves the idea of Draco courting you as you have taken on Hecate,” Mrs. Malfoy commented.

“Yes, Daphne has been very supportive as both Hera and my older sister.”

Bellatrix’s smile grew evil, lips stretching across her ugly teeth. “I’m sure she has a helluva time dealing with Kingsley. That fool!” 

“We all have obstacles in our roles,” Draco drawled. 

“Speaking of the Order,” Bellatrix began and Hermione’s stomach clenched. “I heard such an odd story a few weeks ago about some snatchers catching someone claiming to be Stan Shunpike in the woods. He had red hair like a Weasley, they said, but none of those idiots knew if Shunpike had red hair.”

Hermione opened her mouth to ask if they’d released this person. _ It had to be Ron! _ her mind screamed. Her heart was thundering in her chest. Draco silenced her with a squeezing hand on her knee. He wasn’t hurting her, but it was a warning.

He barked out a laugh along with his aunt’s cackling. “Those snatchers can barely string two basic spells together let alone identify some wizard in the woods.” 

“I’ll say! They even let the ginger escape, those halfwit half-bloods!” Bellatrix exclaimed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you all think of Bellatrix? I tried to not make her entirely crazy, especially since Voldemort trusted her so much and she couldn't have been completely incompetent. It's going to be an ebb and flow. I think that the books do a better job of displaying both her cunning and cruelty whereas in the films she's all shades of crazy.


	33. Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tea with Bellatrix is as unpredictable as Draco and Hermione had planned for.

_ Previously _

_He barked out a laugh along with his aunt’s cackling. “Those snatchers can barely string two basic spells together let alone identify some wizard in the woods.” _

_“I’ll say! They even let the ginger escape, those halfwit half-bloods!” Bellatrix exclaimed._

* * *

Hermione couldn't breathe, her heart lodged in her throat at Bellatrix's words. She had confirmation that at least a few weeks ago Ron was alive! Fortunately, the difficulty breathing made it impossible to start interrogating Bellatrix on her friend's whereabouts and the sighting. She was Astoria Greengrass for the day, after all.

Draco changed the subject after allowing his aunt to spout insults about the snatchers' capabilities. Hermione took her reprieve from the spotlight as a chance to solidify her appearance with a few swigs of the potion-spiked tea. It calmed her nervous excitement to focus on not betraying the foul taste. 

"Bitter, dear?" Draco's aunt shrewdly observed over her own cup.

Hermione grimaced. "I must not have added enough sugar. Liri sometimes makes the tea a bit stronger than I'm accustomed to."

She reached for the sugar under Bellatrix's severe watch. Her hands shook slightly but managed to steady it as she spooned the white grains into her teacup. And then she felt it.

The hot, precise sliding of a scalpel into her brain. If she hadn't built walls and prepared, she might not have even noticed it before it was too late. Hermione knew she shouldn't let on and especially not that she knew basic Occlumency if she could help it.

She set the spoon down with minimal clinking as if in slow motion. As Draco had trained her, she only let Bellatrix see glimpses of moments with Draco.  _ A stolen kiss, their date near the river, her reading in the library, and…  _

Bellatrix had zipped through her prepared memories faster than she had expected. Now, she struggled for mundane Hogwarts classroom memories, but that was difficult since the number of Gryffindors and Harry would be suspicious. She faltered and a glimpse of Harry catching the snitch a few years ago appeared.

Bellatrix released her mind as swiftly and tactfully as she had entered. A Cheshire cat smile spread onto the dark witch's face. She’d found a bone to chew on. Hermione took a sip of her sickly sweet tea to look as if she hadn't realized what had happened.

"It seems we may have a pretender in our midst," the insane witch crowed.

Mrs. Malfoy's head whipped towards her sister. "Bella? Whatever do you mean?"

"My dear nephew's snagged himself a pretty leech here," Bellatrix snarled at Astoria.

Hermione gasped dramatically and Draco grip loosened from her knee. She gaped, not knowing how or if she should respond. 

"Astoria has done nothing--" Draco tried to intervene coolly.

Bellatrix cackled. "I saw  _ him _ , you little gold digger!"

Draco's eyes darted to and from each witch in the room and his mother seemed equally appalled. 

"Who?" Draco nearly growled. Her stomach flipped; in a moment she'd let him down and spoiled everything he'd done to protect her.

"I saw Potter in your little whore's mind! She was admiring him, cheering him on as if he'd won the game for Slytherin. She's after the Malfoy vaults only since the Dark Lord is in power, but the moment Potter gains any ground, she'll be after that pathetic half-blood!"

There was some truth in the raving witch's words beyond Astoria’s character. Hermione would go back to Harry to help him win the war and she saw a sliver of hurt in Draco's silver eyes.

She was about to argue when Mrs. Malfoy addressed her sister.

"Bella, whatever you saw and felt could have been years ago. Perhaps Miss Greengrass admired Potter's quidditch skills as a young witch, but we have a contract with her family. This courtship, while not official, will be solidified by marriage at some point."

A stab of guilt mixed with betrayal sliced into her belly. Hermione hoped that Mrs. Malfoy's words were a deception for her sister. She felt Draco take her hand and she let him fold her lifeless fingers in his. All she could do was stare at her swirling cup of tea.

"While we don't want to commit to anything this early, we are quite happy together. Right, darling?"

Her head felt weighed down by her sinking hope as she raised it to him and faked a smile. He kissed the back of her hand, his eyes trying to communicate something more than what he was saying. She couldn't understand him beyond her drowning thoughts.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to use the loo," she respectfully announced.

While the bathroom was attached to Draco's office, she needed some space to breathe. She could hear the muffled voices of the Black sisters and Draco. Hermione’s heart was racing at the information she’d learned in this odd tea time. She felt a bit like Alice in Wonderland at the Mad Hatter’s tea, but instead of Alice, she was masquerading as the White Queen to fool the Red. 

She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her mind, locking up all her thoughts. While her mind hadn’t been completely composed during Bellatrix’s invasion, Hermione took it as a win more or less with her novice status as an Occlumens. The dark witch had no idea of her real identity. She took her time, washing her hands leisurely, making sure to cleanse all thoughts of Harry and Ron.

When Hermione exited the bathroom, she stopped dead in her tracks. Draco was standing along, his hands in his pockets. His mother and aunt were nowhere to be seen. She blinked at him in confusion.

He smiled at her. “Mother and Aunt Bella are using the powder room down the hall since you so graciously excused yourself.”

She sighed in relief as he took her into his arms, her face pressed into his lapels. Draco’s angular chin pressed into her shoulder blade as his neck hooked over her shoulder. They stood embracing for a minute before Hermione couldn’t help but ask what was on her mind now that they were alone. However, before she could open her mouth, he beat her to it.

“Mother was lying. My father has it in his head to steer me into an engagement with Astoria, but I’m not. I promise, love.”

She nodded into his chest. “About the assumption with Harry--”

Draco chuckled and squeezed her waist. She knew he didn’t want to see her as Astoria, so he kept her tucked in his arms.

“I know you’re not going to leave me for him, at least not romantically.” She snorted at that indelicately. “But I do know you will go back to him when our time here is up. It’s who you are, Hermione. I know I can’t stop you.”

She clutched him tighter as if he’d e vaporate. “Thank you, Draco. Perhaps if there was no war, no mad wizards, I would stay with you into Spring.” Hermione heard him smirk.

The couple had resumed their seats once Mrs. Malfoy and Bellatrix had returned. Draco’s mother’s eyes were creased with worry and her sister looked as haughty as ever. Hermione fortified herself with a biscuit before it nearly crumbled in her lap.

“You don’t know anything about a Persephone, do you, son?” His mother asked in a strained voice. Draco’s eyebrows shot up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all those who have been reviewing and commenting! I'm sorry I haven't had much time to respond, but I have been reading and appreciating your thoughts. <3


	34. Trickster

_ Previously: _

_ “You don’t know anything about a Persephone, do you, son?” His mother asked in a strained voice. Draco’s eyebrows shot up. _

* * *

He shook his head. “There hasn’t been a Persephone since the original one as far as I know,” Hades said smoothly.

“You’re sure, Draco?” Bellatrix asked, trying to look innocent.

“Quite. Did you have a vision?” 

Hermione had forgotten that the three Black sisters were the Fates. How had Draco not prepared for this situation? She assumed, though, these visions were random, but still. It had escaped their preparation and she was anxious once again.

“Yes, it was quite a blurred one, but powerful. Whoever becomes Persephone is a powerful witch,” Bellatrix explained. “Someone I’m sure the Dark Lord’s cause could benefit greatly from.”

“You weren’t able to see her face or anything?” Draco asked and she held her breath.

His aunt shook her head. Mrs. Malfoy was serenely sipping her tea now. “Only that her hair was a bit of a muddy brown.”

Hermione winced at Bellatrix's choice of words. “Do let me know if you see anything else. I always appreciate letters from my favorite aunt,” Draco schmoozed. Hermione wanted to roll her eyes and vomit at the same time.

As his mother launched into a description of her recent gardening, Hermione took a minute to covertly glance at her watch and appearance. Astoria’s visage was still in place and she noticed that it would be soon time to “depart” to Hogwarts. She knew Bellatrix was suspicious, but the witch was already paranoid from her time in Azkaban. 

The remaining time of their tea went by uneventfully besides a few random outbursts from Bellatrix, which Mrs. Malfoy was able to contain and placate her sister. Draco had suggested a scenic walk along the beach across from Elysium, which Bellatrix seemed to light up at. Bellatrix grabbed her nephew’s arm and Hermione was left with Mrs. Malfoy.

“Mrs. Malfoy--”

“Please call me Narcissa, dear.” Hermione couldn’t hold back her smile.

“I hope you don’t find this impertinent, but has your sister ever seen a mind healer?”

Narcissa grimaced. “The Blacks are very proud, perhaps even more proud in some ways than the Malfoys. My sister was sent to Azkaban for her support of the Dark Lord and she escaped because of him. She would never let anyone except  _ him  _ into her mind.”

Hermione absorbed this information and the tone Narcissa was using to describe the relationship between Bellatrix and Voldemort. It was very clear that they were more than servant and master. She repressed a shudder, tugging Draco’s cloak that he’d loaned her closer around her body. 

Luckily, Narcissa didn’t prompt anymore conversation because she needed to concentrate on her elaborate escape. Because she couldn’t exit the gates like the real Astoria, they had to play a trick on the trickster god Hermes. His face would be priceless, but Hermione hoped he wouldn’t betray the trick to Bellatrix. 

The mix of the tea, sugar, anxiety and the polyjuice wasn’t settling in her stomach well. As they had planned, Draco said goodbye to her first by kissing her hand. Then, Narcissa kissed her cheeks lightly. She went to curtsy towards Bellatrix but wasn’t able to.

The frenzied witch snatched Hermione’s arm, pulling her close enough to smell the decaying teeth from her stint in prison. In the split-second, Bellatrix’s touch seemed to trigger a waking nightmare, an extension of the vision she and Draco had had. In it, after torturing her with unforgivable curses, Bellatrix had pulled out a cursed knife. Similar to the way the witch’s nails were digging into her flesh, the blade started to slice into her forearm, the same arm Bellatrix was clawing in the present. 

Hermione struggled against the onslaught of the vision, but Bellatrix didn’t seem to notice that or Narcissa’s far-off voice yelling her sister’s name. It was like they were in a time-turner bubble where it was present and future simultaneously and only Bellatrix and Hermione existed. 

“Beware of Persephone, girl.  _ Astraea _ may mean justice, but it doesn’t mean you’ll get yours,” the dark witch hissed into her ear, her hot breath sending her into a cold sweat. 

With a cackle, Bellatrix released her and, seemingly, the world-altering spell that had encapsulated them. Draco looked as white as a ghost before he composed himself. Hermione was struggling to breathe, clutching her arm. She could still hear the ocean and centered on the dependable sound of the waves on the beach. 

Draco snapped his fingers and Hermes appeared. She knew he couldn’t delay this anymore, not for her to recover. 

“Hades, Fates, Hecate…?” Hermes greeted, his confusion was suspicious as he recognized Astoria. 

She smiled and hooked her arm in Blaise’s, dragging the wizard toward the gates. Hermione tossed a wave over her shoulder before they reached the point where she couldn’t go any further. To the Malfoys and Bellatrix, the pair disappeared, but Hermione had simply apparated them to the Mourning Fields. 

“What in the actual bloody hell?!” Hermes yelled as they landed in the field. “What the fuck, Astoria?”

Hermione/Astoria’s mouth curled into a smile that only a Slytherin could pull off. She rolled her eyes at the dramatic god.

“Come on, Blaise. Do you really think I’m going back to Hogwarts to study for the weekend? That was all a ruse for Draco’s mum and aunt.”

Blaise’s dark eyebrows furrowed, examining her. “I thought His Broodiness was all over you and falling for Persephone?”

Hermione forced a laugh. “Oh Blaise, you can’t be serious. Draco couldn’t be happy with a_ Gryffindor_. Too brash and bold and bushy-haired,” she said in disgust. It was strange to insult herself while pretending to be someone else. 

Blaise smirked. “You’re jealous of Persephone.”

She scoffed. “I’ve got Hades wrapped around my little finger, you dolt.”

Blaise’s dark eyes started to unsettle her with their hidden knowledge. “Maybe, but do you have Draco’s heart?”

“Would I have met his aunt and mother today if I didn’t?”

Hermes shrugged. “Perhaps, it was a political move for both of you.”

“Last time I checked you weren’t in a relationship, Blaise. You wouldn’t understand.”

Blaise said nothing in response, but before he left, he called, “Don’t you ever side-along apparate me without my permission ever again!”

Hermione smirked to herself and apparated into her quarters for a long, hot, bath.

***

Draco was exhausted by the time his mother and aunt left for the day. They’d had an early dinner near Elysium where he’d taken Hermione on a date. He hoped she’d called Liri for some supper. After Bella had grabbed her arm, he’d wanted to go after her and Hermes, but Draco knew it would have aroused suspicion. 

Knocking on her door, she called for him to enter. Hermione was swathed in a silk robe on the settee with a book in her hands. He was drawn like a niffler to a galleon and he couldn’t help but snog her senseless in greeting and relief. 

“You did so well today, love,” he whispered between kisses down her jaw. Her response was a cross between a hum of agreement and a moan. His cock started to harden and Draco was no longer exhausted. He wanted nothing else but to devour her.

He knew they should talk through the events of today, though. And yet, her skin tasted like rose petals, just as soft and floral. She was pliant beneath him, her book set aside. 

“Draco,” she interrupted his thoughts. 

Hades sighed and looked up at her. Persephone’s eyes were ablaze with desire and it made him growl. There was no way they were discussing anything that happened earlier with a look like that.

“I extracted my memories for later.” He blinked at her at first not comprehending and then a wicked grin took over.

“What a clever little witch you are,” he murmured, returning to the skin below her ear. His hand palmed her breast, nipple hard through the thin silk. “And needy.”

She was going to retort, but he started suckling her covered nipple and her words were replaced by a moan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to the Etymology section on Astoria Greengrass’ HP Wiki page: “[Her] name may also be related to Astraea, a daughter of Zeus in Greek mythology who personified justice.


	35. Ehwaz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some kinky lemons!

Hermione had wrapped her arms and legs around him -- not that he was complaining or going anywhere -- as he teased her nipples through her robe. She was writhing under him, begging him for something, anything, he could give. He couldn’t help but grind into her through the layers separating them.

“I’m so glad you’re back to yourself,” he murmured into the valley on her breasts. Draco shuddered as her nails dragged across his scalp. “I missed your chocolate curls.” He twisted a stray coil around his finger. “And your delectable, smart mouth.” 

Draco gave her a bruising kiss that shifted her into his lap on the sofa. He pulled back to look at her: Hermione’s bronze eyes were half-closed in pleasure, her lips swollen from his attention and her chest heaving from exertion. 

“You’re a feast fit for a god,” he marveled.

She gave him a lazy, cat-like smile. “Good thing you’re a god, then.”

“Careful what you wish for, Granger.” He didn’t give her a second to think before he forced her on her back along the length of the settee. Draco’s hands smoothed up her bare thighs, pushing the hem of her robe of the way where he found her bare, dripping pussy lips waiting for him. 

A tingle of pure delight ran down his spine to his cock, making it throb harder than it already was. His flowering goddess was ready for him. Draco licked the inside of her thigh, which was damp with her arousal. She whined at his slow pace of pleasuring her. 

Catching her off-guard, Draco gave her labia a hard lick from top to bottom that made her hips chase his lips. A strangled moan emitted from her throat to his satisfaction. Her arousal gushed into his mouth as he started eating her out in earnest. 

“Dray…mmm... fuuuck… Draco…” she mumbled nonsensically. As she writhed, he glanced up at her and what he saw made him nearly cum in his pants. Persephone was palming her breasts, tweaking her nipples, her back arched. 

He slithered his tongue into her gash and he felt her muscles spasm around it. It took all his effort to let her ride out her orgasm and prevent his own. His beard of cum was dripping onto the couch as he sat up to see his goddess.

She had a pink glow about her in the dim lighting as she lounged against the plush pillows like a Hellenic statue. He wiped his face on his shirt before vanishing his clothes to the laundry. Hermione’s eyes lit up as he bared himself to her. 

His cock was swollen, purple at the head, and dripping for her. He was about to burst. Draco gave himself a few controlled strokes, not wanting to spill too soon. She was his entire world in that moment. 

And then, her small, warm hand wrapped around him. He let her take over and a few seconds later, one of the most intense pleasures wracked his body. Spurt after spurt of hot cum covered her soft, flat belly, pearlescent in the warm glow of the room. Draco slumped against the back of the sofa, his mind and body still separated from his orgasm. 

When he glanced over at her, Hermione was rubbing a glob of the white fluid into her rose gold skin like lotion. She seemed embarrassed when she noticed he’d caught her and moved her hands away. Draco smirked, leaned over her, and painted a rune with his cooling cum over her sternum. Hermione looked down when he finished and broke into a soft smile. 

“ _ Ehwaz _ .”

He nodded. “Partnership. We’re in this together, love.”

She hummed in agreement and approval. It seemed she would doze off, so Draco carried her limp body to bed and curled himself around her. They could face the aftermath tomorrow.

***

After a lie-in and a late breakfast, Draco summoned the Underworld pensieve and poured her memories in. She nodded as his silver eyes flashed to her before diving in. Hermione had chewed half her lip up before he sat up, breathing heavily as if he’d sprinted. 

Setting the pensieve aside, he pulled her into his lap, enveloping her in his warm embrace. His hands trailed patterns up and down her spine, their heartbeats and breathing synching. It felt like an hour had passed until he spoke.

“I’m sorry, love... I-I don’t know what this could mean--”

“--besides that it’s still possible,” she finished for him. It was something she’d refrained from admitting to herself until now. 

His hands clutched her robes tightly, his eyes cast downward. She nearly jumped in surprise when his head whipped back up, eyes now a mesmerizing swirl of molten silver and blue flame. This was Hades. 

“I won’t let them take you from me. No one will take my Persephone. My Hermione,” he growled, the torch flames rising higher. 

Hermione ran her hands through his silver-blonde locks, his eyes softening under her ministrations. “I know, love,” she whispered. 

“You shouldn’t leave here. Your rooms,” he sighed. “It’s the only protection. I don’t know if Hermes is fully convinced you were Astoria, so it might be best for you to keep out of sight.”

“What about the library?” she whined, wishing her voice wouldn’t sound so petulant about being quarantined. 

His expression was apologetic. “I’m sorry, love. You can request books through Liri. She’ll be the only one who has access to you. Besides me.” 

Draco was right. She knew that especially now there was the rumor from the Fates floating around about Persephone. Narcissa couldn’t have done anything else to prevent it. 

“I have to close off your floo, too. Just in case.” 

She nodded wearily. He kissed her temple, moving her onto the sofa before he stood. Draco sighed as if he didn’t want to leave her.

“I have to go attend to some things. I’ll leave you to your own devices, just please don’t go anywhere, love.”

“Alright. I’ll call for Liri if I need anything,” she said with a forced smile. He gave her a guilty look before blinking out of existence.

Hermione summoned her bag and dug around in it, not completely sure what she was looking for. A familiar item caught her attention. It was her datebook she used to keep track of assignments at school. The book was spelled to automatically cross off dates and alert the owner of reminders. Opening it to the current date, she realized that it would be the day she’d be getting on the Hogwarts Express, three days before Christmas Eve. 

Pushing any thoughts of her parents away, Hermione centered herself. She came up with a plan. After writing to Harry in the journal, she summoned Liri. 

“Liri, is it possible for you to go outside of the Underworld?”

The elf nodded with wide unblinking eyes. “But Mistress, what if a witches or wizards recognize Liri?”

That made Hermione pause. “Could you order things by owl? Use Draco’s owl. It wouldn’t be unlike him to be ordering gifts, right?”

Liri smiled at her with glee. “I’ll start making a list and writing the orders,” Hermione said, the holiday spirit invading the cloud of doom hovering over her.


	36. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco receives some distressing news.

To say he felt guilty for caging Hermione was an understatement. Though, the alternative of her being on the run in the woods with Potter also made him angry. He’d nearly drank himself into a stupor going over paperwork after leaving her. Seeing her interacting with his aunt from her point of view was more than unsettling. It rattled him to the very bone. 

The fact that she could walk away and trick Blaise after that made him admire Hermione even more than he already did. She was the fiercest most capable witch he’d ever met. It was a pity he hadn’t seen it before he spurned her at Hogwarts. 

He felt even guiltier at the fact that he’d put her through all this, made her Persephone, kidnapped her, and it still might not change the course of events. He’d experienced the cruciatus curse and knew its toll on the body and mind. While he survived it at the behest of the curser, Draco knew Aunt Bella may not let Hermione live. Sheer will and power didn’t save one from the intents of an unforgivable. Love did, according to Potter and Hermione. Maybe that would be what will save her. 

What really sent Draco into a bigger spiral was the summons from the Dark Lord he’d received. He’d drank himself into a stupor the previous night after receiving it, passing out into a restless, nightmarish sleep without his Persephone. The  _ invitation _ was for a Christmas Eve revel. He hadn’t been required to attend anything since becoming Hades, but now the Death Eaters thought he had been hiding. His father had followed up with his own letter “strongly encouraging” Draco to attend, not so subtly hinting at bringing Astoria. His gut clenched, gnawing at itself in hunger. 

He had no choice but to attend, but the bigger question was should he bring the real Astoria or a polyjuiced one? Both options offered little comfort. Taking Hermione was a large risk, even with his godfather’s extra-strength potion. Yet, taking Astoria might lead to questions about his aunt and mother’s visit that she would be confused by. 

A dull throbbing began behind his eyes, so he went to his potions cabinet -- an expanded one from his predecessor -- in search of a cure. His hunger, hangover, and impossible decision weren’t helping his headache. His head whipped around when he heard a slight noise.

Draco had his wand pointed at none other than a mysteriously tranquil Daphne. He swore under his breath as he lowered his wand and chugged the pepper-up potion. Sitting heavily in his chair, Hades glowered at Hera. He didn’t have the disposition to deal with the attentive goddess today.

“Let me guess, Hades… You’re trying to make a decision about Persephone.” 

He grimaced but said nothing. Daphne glanced over his desk and a spark lit up her eyes. While she processed, he summoned the tea and biscuits left for him. Soaking the biscuit in the tea, he waited for the uninvited goddess to start speaking again.

“It’s about the revel, then.”

He gave her a cursory nod, chewing on his snack. Hera’s eyes were bright with problem-solving, akin to Hermione’s but with more cunning and glee. The Greengrasses had been put into the right house, but at least Daphne wasn’t too protective of her little sister. Each snake for itself. 

“I heard you lied about my sister, Draco. That you were all but engaged,” Hera said pityingly. She didn’t seem to care much about the deceit. “Yet, you don’t want to take her. Persephone might get jealous, hmmm?”

Draco hadn’t really thought of that issue. He never thought of Hermione as a jealous girl, but it was a possibility. 

“I don’t have anyone I can trust to look after her for the night. I don’t want to leave her, but I must make an appearance. My father wants Astoria to be my date, but…”

Daphne grinned wickedly. “You don’t want to encourage my sister too much. She may not be the brightest witch, but she might catch onto your fake interest.”

Draco sighed. “Why are you here, Daph? To make my headache worse?” 

“I came to check in on everything, your relationship namely. Now, though, I have an idea,” she said, standing. The lights around her haloed her golden hair.

He raised a pale brow in question. “I’ll be your date to the revel.”

Draco looked at her in stunned confusion. “Why?”

“You’re like a brother to me already, Draco, though I know it’ll never be real. Our appearance together will solidify your relationship with Astoria, blessed by Hera and her sister in everyone else’s eyes. Besides, my father would prefer my sister to be as far from the darkness as she can be. She has a delicate constitution as it is,” Daphne explained.

He thought it over and knew her reasoning was sound. “What about Persephone, though. She’ll be here alone--”

“Hades, you’re not thinking clearly. Why else would you have Fluffy if he weren’t a guard dog? I’ve seen how that beast treats Hermione. He’ll be loyal to his master and mistress. It’s one night and she is a more than capable witch.”

“Fine,” he drawled as she started to trot away. Hera threw him a wink as she exited as quietly as she came.

An hour later a note arrived via floo. It was from Daphne: “Wear dark blue and gold cufflinks.”

He scoffed and immediately threw the parchment into the fire and hoisted himself out of his chair to visit Hermione. 

***

Her heart leapt when she saw the shock of platinum hair enter her chambers. His expression was priceless as he turned into the newly decorated room. Hermione smiled at his amazement like a child without the weight of the Underworld and Wizarding World on his shoulders. At this moment, it was only the two of them.

The fake snow was collecting on his black robes and speckling his light hair. The evergreen in the corner was sparkling with gold tinsel and red ornaments. Hermione had spent her day ordering gifts and decorating once Draco hadn’t joined her for breakfast that morning. She needed to keep her hands and mind busy in isolation.

Before Draco had walked in, she had curled up on the settee to read and sip her evening tea. She stood to greet him as he continued to marvel at the holiday decorations. He took her hands in his automatically.

“You did all this?” 

Hermione smiled wider. “Of course. I thought if we were going to spend the holidays together that we might as well do it properly.”

His smile faded and she noticed the heavy shadows under his eyes. It was the same way he’d looked nine months ago before Harry had nearly killed him with the half-blood prince’s curse. Draco Malfoy looked guilty.

“What’s wrong?” she prodded, squeezing his large hands.

He looked away from her as if he couldn’t bear her gaze. “Only Gryffindor colors?” Draco teased halfheartedly, eyes on the tree. 

“Draco…” 

She watched the Adam's apple bob in his throat. “I’ve been summoned. Christmas Eve.”

Her eyes flickered to his covered left forearm and she immediately regretted the automatic response. He turned away from her to face the roaring fireplace with the stockings she had knitted with magic. One with a D and one with an H. 

“You have to go,” she stated. Hermione watched the back of his head nod.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, her face in between his shoulder blades. They stood in that position for what seemed like hours until he spoke.

“My father commanded me to bring… a date.”

“Astoria?” she chimed in, a twist of jealousy in her voice. “But what about--”

“Not her. Daphne visited me today and suggested I bring her as a sort of diversion.”

Confusion gripped her for a beat, but then she remembered Daphne’s roles as Hera and Astoria’s sister. It was a political move in the pureblood society. 

“Alright,” she breathed out. His finger tilted her chin and gaze back up to him, Draco’s eyes searching for her concerns. 

She bit her lip to stifle a giggle at the mistletoe sprouting above the. “I believe you owe me a kiss, my king.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone's comments and kudos!!! So glad you're still reading and hopefully enjoying the story.


	37. Santa's Elves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco must call on elf magic to save their Christmas.

After a very thorough snog session under the mistletoe, the king and queen of the Underworld cuddled into bed and fell asleep intertwined. Hermione woke up to Draco’s whimpers, his hands clutching at her as if she was being pulled away. She gently stroked his hair and back, whispering that she was safe with him until he settled down.

In the morning during breakfast, she asked, “You’ll be here for Christmas Day, right?” 

Draco accidentally stabbed his toast with the butter knife. He looked startled for a second, but she saw his Occlumency walls take over, an indifferent expression settling over his face.

“Yes, of course. Trust me, love, I’m coming back here as soon as I can from the revel,” he assured her, no trace of the puzzling reaction to her question.

“Good because I want to spend Christmas with you,” she said sincerely. He gave her a tight smile. 

Draco told her he had some business to do and left with a peck to her lips. She narrowed her eyes at his retreating form, filing his attitude away for further thought. Hermione wondered what his Christmases at Malfoy Manor were like. Perhaps, he feels like he’s missing out on family traditions since he will be away this year.

Hermione commenced with wrapping the gifts Liri sent orders for and made sure that the records were changed in the Malfoy records, so Draco wouldn’t be alerted to her surprise gifts. It may not be as fancy as he was used to as a Malfoy, but she was doing her best to make it a nice holiday considering the situation.

***

Draco called his personal elf as soon as he hastened into his office. “Darby!” The small elf blinked at him in apprehension of fulfilling his duty.

“I need you to access something from the Malfoy vault.”

Wide-eyed, the elf looked nervous, but replied, “What’s can Darby be getting from the vault for the young master?” 

“The opal jewelry, please. I need it here and wrapped by Christmas Eve.”

The elf’s eyes were shining in wonder at his master. “Yes, sir. Is that being all?”

“Just don’t tell anyone, including my mother and father, what your errand is,” Draco said seriously.

Darby bowed low, his ears flopping forward and the points brushing the carpet. As the elf popped away, Draco realized that Hermione might think something was amiss with him at breakfast. He’d let their time alone together in the privacy of the Underworld get away from him. Christmas was so close and he’d hadn’t even contemplated gifts for her -- completely out of character for a Malfoy wizard. 

He’d rushed off to ensure the gifts would arrive for Hermione on time. While he knew she didn’t need gifts and he certainly didn’t expect a gift from her, seeing as how she’d been more or less locked away, Draco couldn’t call himself a gentleman without some sort of token of his affection. 

***

In the days leading up to the revel, Hermione busied herself with decorating, gift wrapping, and practicing magic. She’d been reading about strong, magical weapons that could potentially destroy the evil of a Horcrux. While the relation between the weapon and Hocrux wasn’t explicit, she was trying to find a connection between them. It would only help Harry, who she’d been communicating with as often as she could. At least she knew he was safe, but regretted that he’d be alone for the holidays after having six happy Christmases since starting at Hogwarts.

Hermione didn’t dare send Liri to him in case she could be tracked by magic. She was also trying to ignore the nagging in her head about Draco’s reaction to Christmas. Since then, he’d been overly attentive whenever he could spare time for her in his preparations for the revel. Draco had told her that he’d been researching more protective enchantments and that he was assigning Fluffy to guard her as an extra precaution in his absence. 

On the day of the revel, Christmas Eve, she answered her door in only a silk robe to find Daphne instead of Draco. Daphne was a vision in a gold, silk dress with a high neck and only a thin ribbon in the back securing the dress to her curves. Jealous curled coldly in her stomach as she let the witch into her room.

“I’m sorry to drop in like this Hermione, but I wanted to assure you that I’m on your side. My motive is not to steer your Draco into my sister’s hands, only to create a diversion that looks one way yet actively does not accomplish it. I can assure you, that your wizard is in the second-best hands tonight after yourself. I want all the best for you two and I’m sorry it has to be this way,” Daphne said sincerely.

Hermione swallowed her envy and thanked the blonde witch. “Do you mind if I wait for Draco here?”

“Not at all. Please take a seat.” Daphne was grinning delightedly at the decorations. As the witch sat, Hermione noticed the five-inch stiletto pumps on her feet.

“How do you wear that high of heels so effortlessly?” she asked in admiration.

Daphne’s smile widened. “Magic, of course! There’s a cushioning spell. I’ll teach it to you.”

The witches barely heard Draco enter as they were chatting. He cleared his throat. Hermione was stunned at his appearance. While usually well-groomed, Draco had dressed to the nines for the occasion. His all-black three-piece suit was accented by a black tie with gold stripes and a gold handkerchief. 

He looked mouth-watering. Hermione envisioned herself in Daphne’s dress and magically cushioned high heels being swept around a grand ballroom by her dashing Draco. Daphne and Draco were both amused by her starry-eyed expression when she snapped out of it.

“Can I have a minute alone with Hermione, Daph?” he drawled.

Hera went to freshen her make up in Hermione’s ensuite while Draco pulled Hermione up from the couch. He kissed her soundly, assuring her even more that he was definitely hers and no one else’s. 

“In better circumstances, I wish I was escorting you to a ball like this. You deserve so much better than I can give you,” he murmured against her lips.

She shuddered at the light brushes of his mouth. “You can only give me what you have, Draco. I expect nothing more. I hope this is all temporary. That someday you can be my date to a ball.”

“I’ll give you a ball every weekend if it meant you’d be my date,” he whispered into her ear, his breath making her quiver. “I wish you were my golden girl tonight, but I don’t want to share you with anyone, let alone Death Eaters.”

She held him tighter, burying her face into his lapels. Hermione had known the revel was dangerous, but now she was regretting not knowing exactly how dangerous it was for Draco. At the same time, she didn’t want to know what all went on when the Death Eaters celebrated. 

“I love you, Draco.”

He kissed her forehead, nose, and mouth before responding, “I love you too, Hermione.”

After watching the two leave together, Hermione pulled out the journal to see if Harry had responded about her theory on the sword of Gryffindor. She’d read and relayed to him that magically enforced swords may destroy the dark magic. They’d discussed the possible locations of the legendary sword. Harry had also written about visiting his parents’ graves as he’d done the year before. Hermione had responded that he shouldn’t go alone, not in the current climate, but that Godric’s Hollow could be a possible sword location and that they should further research it before going forward.

The blood in her veins froze as she read Harry’s newest entry:

_ I’m going to Godric’s Hollow to look for the sword. I’ll be careful. _

Hermione Jean Granger didn’t panic often, but this was one of the times. Not only was she trapped in the Underworld under guard -- for her own safety -- but both of her best friends and Draco were in danger and there was nothing she could do about any of it. Helplessness was not something she ever wanted to feel. 

Magic could protect, it could hurt, and it could even make high heels comfortable, but it could not, at this moment, make her feel less helpful. She was furiously pacing and heard Fluffy give a snort outside her doorway. Her magic surged the torches in frustration and a snowstorm started developing where it was falling on the evergreen.

She startled at a  _ pop! _ nearby as Liri appeared. “Does Mistress needs anything tonight?”

The house elf looked concerned at Hermione’s wild appearance. “Liri!” she cried.

Now, the elf jumped in alarm. “I need you to go to Godric’s Hollow and find Harry Potter.”

The elf started wringing her hands. “I cannots argue with Mistress.... It’ses dangerous, Master Draco warns Liri to protect yous.”

“Right now, Liri, Harry Potter is the most important person to me. I need you to make sure he’s okay. Can you stay out of sight unless he needs help? Please? I promise, this will be a secret from Draco,” she pleaded with the small elf.

Liri gave a solemn nod and apparated away. If Dobby could protect Harry from going back to Hogwarts during their second year, Liri could keep an eye on him too. Hermione prayed Liri wouldn’t need to intervene, but Harry had a penchant for attracting danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you on a cliff-hanger!! Also, I may not be able to update next week since I'm going away to a cabin in the woods without internet or cell signal, so I'm double sorry!!! I promise the next chapter will be up as soon as I can write and post it and you'll find out about Harry as well as Draco at the revel.


	38. The Revel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Revel begins and Hermione waits anxiously for Liri to return from her mission.

Draco tugged on his tie for the fifth time as they approached the castle at Cornwall. They had apparated into the appropriate zone and then strolled from the gates to the entrance lit with festively wreathed lanterns. Equating Christmas with Death Eaters was mind-boggling for him. 

“Do you need a pepper-up potion?” Daphne questioned him as they approached the line of guests filing into the castle.

“I’m fine, Daph.”

“Then, wipe that churlish look off your face. It’s Christmas for Slytherin’s sake!” He grimaced and then forced his lips and cheeks into a smile, hoping he didn’t look like a complete fool. 

The venue was a lesser Death Eater’s home, supposedly some earl. Besides from the decor being hideously ancient and the food being snobbishly inedible, it was quite tame for what Draco expected. He drained his glass of champagne to clear the taste of caviar from his mouth. 

Daphne had been a gracious date so far by ensuring to whisper the name and title of every witch and wizard who approached them. Draco was glad that the Greengrasses weren’t in attendance and it made their presence easier to defend: she was representing her family and role as Hera and he was representing his family and role as Hades. 

Even so, the Dark Lord himself had been suspiciously absent. Each time the doors opened, Draco was prepared to bow and submit to His Noselessness. He had additionally avoided his father by sweeping Daphne onto the dancefloor. Daphne went along with it, but chided him softly. Draco knew he’d have to face him sooner or later.

He’d been distracted by grabbing his third glass of champagne when he heard the deep drawl behind him. “You seem to have brought the wrong Miss Greengrass.”

Draco sneered before turning around with an amused smile to face his father. By all appearances, the Malfoy patriarch seemed to have shrunk slightly, but noticeably as he saw his father’s lined forehead instead of his cool grey eyes. Why did he have to answer to someone so overwrought by darkness and guilt?

“Father, you know the Greengrasses would rather their youngest daughter be at home after staying at Hogwarts all semester. Besides, Daphne approached me with the idea,” he said honestly.

Lucius was trying to see if he was lying, but couldn’t find a fault in his statement. The elder Malfoy huffed before turning to survey the crowd. A party was more apt than a revel as a descriptor. 

“Look out for yourself, son,” was all his father said before storming off to the balcony. 

Daphne had returned to his side, a slight crease of worry at her brow. He’d never seen her act so concerned before. 

“What’s wrong? My father was better--”

The clang of the doors announced a new, important visitor. Instead of bowing to his leader, Draco couldn’t help but stare at the witch accompanying him. Perhaps ‘accompanying’ was generous, the witch was a prisoner. Daphne must have sensed this newcomer moments before she arrived with a preening Voldemort.

***

Hermione anxiously waited for Liri to return, hopefully before Draco, but she didn’t care at this point who returned first as long as they came back to her. Her magic was crackling around her, buzzing around her wild curls. She had a bad feeling about Godric’s Hollow. Harry shouldn’t have gone at all unless someone went with him… but he didn’t have that option. Ron was gone; she was a world away. 

Was sending Liri a mistake? Could she be traced? Hermione made a mental note to research more about house elf representation at the ministry level. Perhaps the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures would be a wise career move if the war ended.

She heard Fluffy start to snore and whistled to wake him. The three-headed hellhound huffed at her and she gave him a scratch behind one of his many ears. It was soothing for a few minutes, petting Fluffy.

It was the longest half-hour of her life. Hermione couldn’t even focus on reading. She checked the clock every minute. Both relief and anxiety filled her at the  _ pop _ of elf magic.

“Liri?”

The house elf was panting with exertion. Hermione knelt at her side as Liri caught her breath, the little creature shaking badly. 

“Harry… Potter… is... safe,” she haltingly said through heavy breaths. 

Hermione sighed and refrained from smothering the exhausted creature with a hug. “What did you see Liri? What happened?”

“Nothings I’s wants to see ever again, Mistress.” The elf was close to tears, so she didn’t press her. She imagined Harry would tell her in the journal when he too was ready.

***

Luna Lovegood was a badly bruised prisoner, her light hair tarnished by dirt. While Draco had not felt anything for the strange witch before, he knew she’d been caught in this war like he had due to her father. Xenophilius Lovegood, while a pureblood, was not openly accepted by the Sacred 28 and Draco had been warded away from the family by his father.

He knew how it felt to be trapped like Luna was. Still, she looked defiant, if not dazed, though she usually was glassy-eyed. If his stomach wasn’t in knots upon seeing the prisoner, it was when their Lord spoke.

“Happy Chrisssstmassss Eve, my faithful ssssupportersssss. I have my prize for tonight, sssso let’ssss celebrate!” 

Applause thundered in the ballroom and the music was back in full swing. Voldemort stalked through the crowd with his gash of a smile. Draco and Daphne stuck to the outskirts and watched their so-called leader interact with his followers. 

Luna was paraded around, half-conscious, like a puppet before another Death Eater took her away. Draco swallowed the bile that came up at what they might do to her. A more entertaining interaction was his father’s cowering approach to his lordship.

The powerful wizard hadn’t gotten within a few yards of Lucius before he halted as if struck by a powerful thought. He watched Voldemort’s expression darken to a malicious grin and then a startlingly maniacal laugh boomed throughout the room. A few glasses shattered and witches gasped. 

“Well done, Nagini!” his voice echoed.

When Voldemort departed in a burst of acrid smoke, Draco looked to Daphne. The worry was deeper than when Luna had been brought in. Before he could ask, his mother hastened up to them. 

“I think it’s Potter,” his mother hissed. “Nothing else would call him away so quickly.” 

If something happened to the Brainless Boy Who Lived, Hermione would be crushed. Any chance they had at winning and surviving this war would be lost. Draco was instantly sober. Daphne’s hand on his elbow felt wrong, his skin itched and he needed his witch, his goddess. He needed to see that she was safe.

“We should probably---” The words died in his throat as another burst of dark smoke erupted in the center of the room. 

The Dark Lord was bellowing incoherently as his supporters’ celebratory cheers were cut short. Draco saw a flash of green light and a wizard on the other side of the room was Avada’d at random. He saw Nagini’s tail twining around the guests’ feet. Before any more curses could be fired, Draco led Daphne to the servants’ exit and down to the apparition point.

“Go home, Daph. Happy Christmas,” he said solemnly. She gave him a weak smile in her glittering gold and he returned to the Underworld.

Draco pushed open Hermione’s suite only to be bowled over by Fluffy. He shoved the hound off sternly, but patted one head saying, “Good boy.” Hermione flew into his arms, clutching his jacket. 

Her soft warm form comforted him to no end. After a full minute of embracing her, Draco knew he had to tell her about what happened at the revel. They both started talking at the same time: 

“I saw--”

“Harry said--”

“Wait, what did Potter say?” he urged her to go on.

Hermione took a deep breath before launching into the story. “He told me he was going to Godric’s Hollow. We’d been discussing a potential--” at Draco’s throat-clearing, she progressed with the code they’d spoken about. “--potion ingredient he could get there and visit his parents’ graves. He’d gone before I could warn him not to go alone, but it’s not like I could be there… He stopped by Bathilda Bagshot’s house to ask her about the ingredient and thought there was something strange about her. She didn’t really have any answers, he said, and then she turned into a giant snake!” 

“Nagini,” he breathed out. Hermione nodded. “How did he get out?”

He saw Hermione swallow. “An elf.”

“An elf? An elf just magically appeared to save him?” he asked in sarcastic disbelief.

She bit her lip. Hermione was hiding something, he knew it. “It happened to him in second year!” 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Come on, you’re having a go at me. Elves don’t just appear to save wizards!”

“Fine! I sent Liri to keep an eye--”

“You what?!” Draco bellowed. Hermione shrank a little but held her ground.

She was venomous. “What was I supposed to do, Draco? Sit on my arse here, twiddle my thumbs and hope for the best? I’m a Gryffindor, dammit! We act.”

“You sent my house elf into danger and could have exposed yourself!” 

She folded her arms across her chest. “Everyone is fine! Maybe not the snake or Harry’s wand…” 

Draco wanted to scream at her until he was blue in the face. He wanted to tie her up and never let her leave his sight. Instead, he knelt at her feet where she sat in the stuffed chair in front of the tree and fireplace and placed his head in her lap, his arms wrapping around her middle. 

While her fingers carded through his hair comfortingly, he admitted, “I was worried about him, about you… The Dark Lord has Luna.” He felt her freeze around him. 

“And then, he left because of Nagini. She must have called him when Potter was there. He-he was very upset afterward. None of us knew… My mother must have seen a flash of something, though and Daphne sensed something too."

It was a memorable start to Christmas indeed.


	39. Christmas Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas Day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas in July! And some lemons ;)

Hermione burrowed into Draco, her emotions finally spilling over the levy she’d built into sobs that wracked both of their bodies. He held her steady and curled himself around her protectively. She clutched at him like a buoy and barely noticed that he’d carried her over to the bed. They lie in one another’s arms until they fell asleep, both exhausted by the events of the day. 

Her eyes were swollen from crying when she woke on Christmas morning. She couldn’t help but smile at being tangled in Draco’s limbs. He was on his stomach, one foot hanging off the edge of the bed and his arms holding her tight. His head was wedged between her shoulder and the pillow, his light snores disturbing her wild hair. 

Despite everything that had happened in the past year, she was glad to be with him on Christmas. She would have preferred to see her parents, Harry, and the Weasleys, but Draco was just hers. He had no obligations to anyone else. 

Draco sleepily moaned into her neck, his breath on her sensitive skin made her shudder. His hands started to wander as his breathing sped up. Hermione silently gasped as his fingers snuck beneath her sleep pants and encountered no knickers. His other hand had reached her breast, squeezing gently. She whimpered as his rogue fingers stroked through the wetness now building up between her thighs. 

Hermione watched his hips press into the bed as though he was having a naughty dream and enacting it on her in real life. He groaned louder, his hips moving faster, and he played her body like a cello, thumb strumming her clit. She barely had time to anticipate her orgasm before it yanked her into a pleasurable abyss, her fingers and toes curling into the sheets. Draco’s rich, strangled moan was loud in her ear as he too came in his pants. 

The quick onslaught of her orgasm made her sink into a realm between consciousness until Draco lightly pinched her nipple. Hermione squeaked and found his molten silver eyes on her. She bit her lip, which she released to moan as his finger dipped inside her wet core. 

“Draco,” she whispered. He smiled at her, cat-like and smug. 

“I thought you were a dream,” he said hotly into her ear and she closed her eyes to savor the second finger he sank inside her. The baritone of his voice heightened her arousal. “I can’t believe you made me cum in my shorts like a first year.”

He nipped her earlobe and her hips bucked into his hand. His fingers were swirling, but they weren’t quite at that spongy spot that made her see stars. Hermione huffed, trying to impale her a little further. 

“Tsk tsk, someone’s impatient. Not even a ‘good morning’ for ol’ Hades,” he continued to tease, his voice rough with sleep. It made her more desperate for the release just out of reach. 

“Please!” she begged. 

Hermione knew he was wolfishly smiling, watching her reactions. “Since you beg so sweetly, dear Persephone, I’ll give you  _ la petit mort _ .”

He finally pressed his fingers toward her pelvis, beckoning her orgasm. And then, Draco’s thumb rubbed against her engorged nub and she was seizing. That unearthly scream couldn’t have been hers, she thought, floating in a pool of angel dust and sparkling vapor. 

When she came back to her body, Hermione blinked at her lover whose fingers were now lodged in his mouth like a lolly. She could have sworn his eyes flashed blue as he sucked. Hermione flushed at the intimacy, a tingling lingering from her ‘little death,’ as Draco had called it in French. 

He smirked at her devilishly, withdrawing his fingers from his lips. “What a Christmas treat! Let’s get ourselves cleaned up and have a yuletide breakfast, love.”

She allowed him to pull her into the shower after shoving off their sticky pajamas. Hermione knew she was smiling like a fool as they went about their morning as if the previous night hadn’t been a harrowing one. Not wanting to dwell on it during a holiday, she resolved to work on a plan to locate Luna and keep Harry safe after Christmas. 

For now, she’d focus on the blonde-haired, grey-eyed man slathering her naked body with soap. She could indulge on a holiday, right? Hermione hummed in approval at Draco’s ministrations, his newly hardened cock rubbing against her lower back and the top of her arse. 

He’d just started to massage shampoo into her curls when she turned around and went to her knees. She kissed the leaking head, slick from the water, and took him into her mouth, her hands fondling his bollocks. His hands continued to shampoo her hair, his grip tightening every time she took him as deep as she could before he could slide down her throat. 

“Hermione,” he panted over the sound of the shower. She knew he was close, but she kept stroking and sucking on his shaft. His hips stuttered and his groan made her stomach flip flop as his load poured onto her tongue. She sucked him dry until he was limp in her mouth. 

Ensuring he was looking at her, Hermione swallowed his cum. He kissed her hard as she rinsed her hair, the water cascading over them. 

“Happy Christmas, Draco,” she said against his lips.

His smile was blinding. “Happy Christmas, Hermione.”

***

It was the best Christmas he could remember. 

As they walked into the holiday-decked living room, Draco’s eyes bulged at the sight of the giant pile of presents under the tree that hadn’t been there earlier. His head swiveled to look at Hermione whose face was bursting with joy at the sight of his bewildered expression. He continued to gape as she waved her wand at the fireplace to enhance the cozy setting. 

“H-how d-did you…” he stuttered. The popping of elf apparition announced Liri’s arrival.

“Happiest Christmases!” she cheered in her poofy red dress. 

Draco couldn’t help but smile at the little elf. The house elf that had saved Harry Potter, that had presumably fetched these gifts for Hermione, that had just made a Christmas feast appear on the dining table. 

Taking a knee in front of Liri, Draco stuck out his hand for her to shake. The elf looked confused, but reached out to take his large hand in her very small yet powerful one. 

“I, Draco Malfoy, on behalf of the Wizarding World, offer you our highest gratitude and commend you for your bravery and service. Please accept the rest of the day off, at the very least,” he offered.

Liri’s eyes went wide and he heard Hermione stifle a gasp. “Thank yous, Master. I would do anythings for yous and Mistress. It was my pleasure helping yous and Harry Potter.”

“Please join us for the Christmas feast, if you’d like, Liri,” Draco said graciously. 

“Thank yous for the offerses, but we elveses has our own meal together.” Draco nodded. Liri curtsied and disappeared to leave them to their meal.

Hermione walked into his arms and hugged him. He embraced her small body, the warmth of having her to himself a relief and a comfort. 

“Who are all these presents for, my little goddess?” he murmured into her ear. 

She giggled and pressed her nose into his collarbone. “Some of them are for Fluffy.”

Draco chuckled. “You’re not supposed to spoil the guard dog, love.” 

“I’ll spoil whoever I want,” she argued and he kissed her on the nose when she pulled her head away from his chest.

He smirked at her. “Then you can’t blame me for spoiling you.”

She shivered and he saw her press her thighs together. Before they could revert back to their physical intimacy, Draco tried not to betray his nerves while leaving their next steps up to her.

“Eat or open?” he asked.

Hermione bit her lip and looked from the feast to the gifts. “Both? We can switch off eating and opening.”

“Who goes first in opening then?”

She didn’t even respond and simply walked over to the tree to retrieve a gift for him. He was glad his stomach was empty as his insides squirmed.

Hermione placed the small rectangular present in his lap as he sat at the table and then sat in her own chair with a scone to start. He pulled the end of the green ribbon slowly, trying to distract himself from her excited gaze on him. The silver wrap came off next with him tearing through the seam.

It was a leatherbound journal, similar to the one she’d enchanted for communication with Potter. He stared at it for a second and then opened the cover. It was inscribed with Hermione’s fluid handwriting:

_ Remember I love you, Draco. We never have to go a day without writing to each other.  _

_ Kisses, Hermione _

His stomach sank. He would eventually have to go without her when the spring came. She would go back and he would remain in the Underworld. No sound came out when he went to open his mouth to thank her despite the reminder of her eventual exodus.

Draco looked over at her and realized tears had welled in his eyes, her beautiful face blurring. She came over to him as he let them fall down his cheeks and one stained the page, fortunately not smearing her writing.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, I wanted to make sure you knew I’d want to stay with you, that I’m not leaving you completely when I must go,” she said gently.

“Thank you,” he croaked before she kissed him. She wiped his tears away, cradling his head. Draco calmed down and swallowed his insecurities after a few minutes.

“You’ll have to stand and close your eyes, love. I didn’t have a chance to wrap yours.” Hermione complied with a smile and then he had a better idea. Draco wrapped the ribbon from his gift around her eyes.

She stiffened momentarily but relaxed at his touch. He could see her pulse racing in her neck and he placed a kiss where it jumped in her neck.

Draco summoned a small, black box and went down on one knee. He took a deep breath before telling her to take off the blindfold...


	40. The Proposal

_ Draco summoned a small, black box and went down on one knee. He took a deep breath before telling her to take off the blindfold... _

“Before you see your gift, I want you to know that I love you so much and I don’t know what I’ll do without you in the spring. I want to be a better man than my father is and I hope that you know that just being around you already makes me better, more whole,” he said, trying not to break down again like he had when she’d given him the journal.

***

Hermione seemed to know that it was time to take off the makeshift blindfold at the end of his speech. Her jaw dropped at the sight of him proposing with a gorgeous, vintage ring. Despite that she knew it would be coming, her brain stuttered and sputtered. 

“Will you marry me, Hermione Jean Granger… my Persephone?”

She didn’t trust her mouth to form words, so Hermione nodded enthusiastically and held out her hand in acceptance. His ecstatic smile made her heart skip a beat as he took her hand in his. Draco kissed her knuckles softly before sliding the ring on her finger, which shrank magically to her finger’s size. 

Hermione took a moment to admire the jewelry: a large, fiery opal surrounded by tiny, gleaming diamonds. The size didn’t look too ostentatious, but it was still an expensive piece of jewelry. Draco’s arms came around her, his chin hooked over her shoulder to gaze admire the ring with her. It wasn’t the same ring she’d seen in her first dream of him, but it was bright and perfect nonetheless.

She turned in the circle of his arms and reached to cradle his chin in her hands. His eyes were luminous, shining with happiness, and she pressed her lips gently to his. He kept it light and loving until Hermione opened her mouth, brushing her tongue along his lips. Draco growled, his fingers curling into her hips and dragging her closer to him. 

Hermione whimpered at his possession of her mouth, her knees struggling to keep her upright. She hung from her arms around his neck and she gasped as he bit her bottom lip and soothed it with his tongue. Her knickers were damp just from the kiss. 

“Hermione…” he whispered huskily. “Want to marry me today? Right now.”

She couldn’t think of a reason not to. No one would be there to witness their wedding anyway, not now when no one was supposed to know where she was. A Christmas wedding. 

“Yes, Draco,” she panted into his mouth. They’d been through enough together in the past few months. 

This was inevitable.

He claimed her mouth again and she sucked on his tongue and nibbled on his lips. She smiled at his groan. Draco rested his forehead against hers as they caught their breath.

“Hold on, love,” he said, his voice gravelly. Hermione felt the tug of apparition as Draco spun them into the ether.

***

They landed in Draco’s office. He kept Hermione’s ring-adorned hand in his as he placed a floo call. She squeezed his hand as they waited for an answer.

“Maybe--” he began, but then someone started coming through the floo. 

Daphne appeared in all her splendor in a golden Christmas gown. She looked like an angel incarnate as she effortlessly rid herself of floo powder. Her smile at Hermione’s hand made Draco’s heart lighter.

“What a wonderful Christmas gift!” Daphne announced. “I wanted to wish you and Hermione happy holidays in person when you called, but I’m over the moon that this is why I’m here.”

He saw Hermione blush at Daphne’s excitement. “We agreed that we want to be married today, Daph,” Draco answered, his face starting to hurt from his grin, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t have received a better Christmas gift.

Daphne clapped her hands together with glee and asked, “Where would you like to have the ceremony?”

“I-I had a dream…” Both Draco and Hermione started saying. “Lavender fields?” he asked her.

Hermione nodded, cheeks pink. He grinned at her and squeezed her left hand. Draco held his other hand out for Daphne and apparated them to a field. While it was possibly the plainest field in the Underworld, he and Daphne made the lavender grow, purple blossoming before their eyes. 

Daphne waved her wand again at Hermione this time, a white flowing dress now draping her small, curvy frame. Then, Hera bent down to fashion a tiara out of lavender sprigs and set them in Persephone’s hair. 

He wanted her more than anything else. Draco wanted her to rule by his side, be his partner, his lover, and one day, the mother of his children. 

***

Hermione felt like she was back in the dream she’d had all those months ago; except now, everything was clear. While she was still infatuated with Draco and his angelic appearance, she knew him, trusted him, and loved him. And, she now knew that Daphne was on their side. 

“Ready?” Hera asked melodiously.

She couldn’t help but smile at what was happening. That in the middle of a war, love was prevailing and it would prevail beyond it. It made her nervous to think beyond the present, but their love was enough. Draco bent to kiss her ring and nodded at Daphne.

Similarly to an unbreakable vow, Hera summoned a ribbon to encircle their joined hands and wrap around their wrists, softly yet securely. Hermione felt a tingle of magic pushing and pulling between them like the ebb and flow of the ocean.

She lost herself in the dark, slate grey of Draco’s eyes as Daphne’s magic and words wound around them. Hermione felt more than heard their bonding ceremony, their commitment. It truly felt magical and ethereal and more words didn’t seem needed than the intangible feelings in their hearts.

As in her dream, she heard Hera pronounce them husband and wife, their joined magic pulling the couple together. Hermione gasped into Draco’s mouth as their lips touched, a spark of raw magic igniting at their union. He held her closer as if she was the source of his power, his happiness.

Hermione didn’t push him away as she did in her dream. She held tighter to him, clutching him like a lifeline. Hermione smiled against his lips when he refused to break away.

“Congratulations!” she heard Daphne say softly before leaving the newlyweds. 

Draco kissed her nose lightly. “Want to know what happened next in my dream?”

The heat in his gaze and sly quirk of his lips made Hermione’s stomach flip in anticipation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffy, but my first week back at work after vacation was super hectic and busy. I barely had the energy and time to write this! I can only hope the next chapter will be on time for next weekend so you're not left in suspense for too long ;)


	41. Making Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made sure the title of this chapter makes it clear what it's about! Hopefully, I don't let you down after all this waiting. I felt a lot of pressure writing this!

_Draco kissed her nose lightly. “Want to know what happened next in my dream?”_

_The heat in his gaze and sly quirk of his lips made Hermione’s stomach flip in anticipation._

His warm fingers pressing on her lower back sent tingles down her spine along with his words. She could feel the heat pooling between her legs, her thighs brushing to relieve some of her discomfort. Draco’s lips were teasing her neck, brushing and nipping over her pulse, making her breathing ragged. 

“Do you want to know?” he teased.

A noise erupted from her throat that she could not have replicated purposefully. It was a feral expression of want, need.  _ Fuck _ .

“ _ Please _ .”

Hermione’s hips rolled into his to allow some friction and then she nearly jumped out of her skin. A vibration shot on up and down her left leg, her eyes closing in the illicit sensation. A rush of breath escaped her lips and then she realized…

“My wand,” she gasped and wrestled with her dress to access her holster.

Draco had released her in the panic for her wand. Gripping the wood, she figured out what the alert was telling her. She’d spelled it to go off this morning, after the emergency with her best friend, when Harry wrote in the journal. 

Her mouth opened and closed at the indecision in her mind. Her new husband was also conflicted, his eyes shifting from silver to gunmetal grey every few seconds. The lavender was a pungent and heady perfume around them.

She finally explained, “It’s Harry, I….”  _ Don’t want to leave you. _

Surprisingly, Draco smirked at her, waving his wand with a flourish. “ _ Accio _ Hermione’s journal.” Within a minute, the journal had zipped into his long-fingered hands that had been all over her what felt like hours before. 

“I know I’ll always have to endure Potter, but this is the one time I’m allowing him to come first. As my wedding gift to you, my lovely wife,” he drawled, winking. 

Hermione had to roll her eyes. “Thank you,  _ husband _ . Seeing what Harry said will just take a minute.”

As she flipped the journal open, he said, “I promise you,  _ I _ will be taking much more than a minute.”

She couldn’t suppress her grin and the wave of lust rolling through her. Harry’s scrawl was nearly illegible due to the haste it was written with.

_ Ron’s back! He came back and we found the sword! _

Hermione’s hands shook with surprise and excitement, the book nearly falling out of her hands. She closed the journal with a slam and threw it to the ground before pulling Draco’s head to hers. He squeaked in surprise but reciprocated quickly and enthusiastically. Between kisses, she explained, “Ron’s back (kiss kiss) and they (kiss kiss) found something (kiss kiss) we’re been (kiss kiss) looking for.”

“As much as I’m enjoying this, do you want to talk about it?” Draco asked, pulling away from her lips’ reach. His mouth was ravaged and beestung, his eyes were dark and glinting. 

She bit her own swollen lips, taking in his appearance. Shaking her head, Hermione said, “It’s good news, but  _ this _ ,” she gestured between them. “Is even better.”

“You bet it is,” Draco growled. He ripped off his suit jacket, spreading it over the flowers. Then, he enlarged it into a blanket. 

Hermione casted a notice-me-not charm on the space around them in case any shades wandered over. She didn’t want to be interrupted, especially by the dead. Draco was staring at her hungrily as she unsecured her dress and unbeknownst to him, Daphne had transformed her underthings in addition to her dress.

The pale purple lace contrasted with her golden skin, fanning the flames in her husband’s eyes. The long line balconette bra lifted her ample bosom and the small, cheeky knickers accentuated her curves. She blushed as Draco made the signal for her to turn in a circle for him to see her fully in the lingerie.

It’s not like he hadn’t seen her before, but this was now as a married couple. She giggled as he pressed himself against her back, his hands choosing different poles of her body: one skimming her cleavage, one splaying across her hip. His mouth was placing sinfully light kisses on her shoulder as his breath teased her neck. 

Her eyes fluttered closed and then he stepped away from her. Hermione whined in disappointment but found her feet off the ground and her body cradled in Draco’s arms. He stole her breath away before she could even blink, his tongue teasing her lips apart to seek hers. She moaned against his lips, his arms lowering her to the ground covering beneath him. 

“Draco… You’re entirely too clothed for bedding your wife,” she complained against his lips. He gave her his signature smirk. 

He pulled back to take off his tie. While he was busy with that, Hermione trailed her finger down his buttons, whispering a spell she’d learned recently. His shirt gaped open, the buttons unthreading themselves with magic. 

“My brilliant, beautiful wife,” Draco purred. She bit her lip and reached for his belt. “Impatient, too.”

Hermione unbuckled him hastily, yanking his pants down. “Careful with your husband’s package, love. Wouldn’t want anything to be damaged…” He winked lasciviously. 

“How can you be so cavalier after waiting for so long?” Hermione huffed, leaning back on her elbows. 

She watched said package come into view, the hard outline of him pressing into his briefs. Licking her lips, she heard him chuckle.

“Because, love, I like to take my time.”

He revealed his delicious length but bent down between her legs to lap at her pussy through the lace. She squirmed as the wet lace gave her the friction she needed. But she wanted him inside her more.

“Draco,  _ please! _ I’m ready for you,” Hermione begged. “We can take it slow later. I need you!”

His eyes flickered, but he relented by hooking his fingers in the lace near her hips. She lifted her arse for him to pull her knickers down. Draco hovered over her, his cock pressing into her soft inner thigh. He kissed up her chest and vanished her bra, nipples puckering for him. 

“I love you, Hermione,” he said reverently, his eyes filled with love and desire. A rush of the same emotions shot through her body like a zap of magic. 

“I love you too, Draco.”

She kissed him sweetly before he lined the head of his cock up with her wet folds. The only sounds were the light breeze and their heavy breathing. Hermione panted as he dragged the tip through her wetness, poised to enter her. 

Nodding eagerly, she encouraged him. He looked conflicted for a moment, but began to shift forward and into her. His size hadn’t quite worried her until this very moment as he pushed in. She automatically held her breath. As wet as she was, she was tight. 

“Breathe, love,” Draco gasped, trying to go slowly. Hermione knew he didn’t want to hurt her. 

There was some discomfort and pinching as he wedged his way inside her. She felt her muscles attempting to stretch around his girth as he explored her. The pain in her lip as she bit down was more than what was happening between her legs, but it didn’t make it any more comfortable. 

Draco looked at her face, his eyes tight, trying to concentrate on his pace. He leaned forward, his hips stilling, to wrap his lips around her nipple. Breath rushed out of her, pleasure and arousal flooding her system. Her hips bucked against him, his cock pushing deeper. Draco hissed in pleasure and seemed to check her.

“Please,” she said almost inaudibly. The discomfort was dissipating as she adapted to his intrusion. His hips started to experiment, her own trying to move with him, chasing the pleasure she knew this could yield. 

“You feel so good, Hermione. Squeezing, wet around me,” he rasped. Her muscles quivered at his words and he moaned tortuously.

One of his hands hooked under her knee, wrapping her leg around his hip. The angle changed and Hermione felt nothing but fulfilled, complete, wholeness. He filled her perfectly!

The wet sounds of their bodies knocking together spurred her on, her body alight with the way he felt deep within her pussy. His hips shifted up slightly and Hermione seized around him, her back arching, her nails scratching down his shoulders as he wrung her orgasm out.

“Fuck yes, yes, that’s it, love. Cum on my hard cock. Does that feel good?”

Hermione couldn’t form words, so she nodded. She didn’t know what she was doing, but it didn’t matter. Their bodies worked in tandem, hips pushing and pulling in that delicious rhythm. Draco’s words made her body tingle as he pounded into her, her muscles greedily pulling him in.

“Can you cum for me again? I need to feel you again… Fuck! I don’t want to stop, I want to take you in every position... “ he babbled.

He reached between them to rub circles on her clit. That sent her over the edge, the edges of her vision blurring. And then she vaguely felt him pulse inside her with a deep moan, hips twitching erratically. 

Her body felt liquefied as they recovered, sweaty skin slipping. He rolled them onto their sides, his softening cock still buried in her heat. His spend dripped out of her as he lazily summoned his wand. Her eyes widened at his use of the contraception charm. She sighed and thanked him quietly. 

“I couldn’t stop myself,” he explained huskily. She loved the sated yet fiery look in his eyes. Hermione kissed him firmly, trying to pour her love and devotion into it, for making her first time special. 

She curled into his chest while Draco’s chin hooked over the crown of her head. “Kiss me like that and we’ll be going to round two already,” her husband joked. 


	42. Patronus

_ She curled into his chest while Draco’s chin hooked over the crown of her head. “Kiss me like that and we’ll be going to round two already,” her husband joked. _

Draco really wasn’t joking. He’d gotten a feel of his new brides’ pussy around his cock and he wouldn’t be going without that for long. The King of the Underworld apparated his new queen to her quarters -- it was where she felt most comfortable anyway -- and the sight of her splayed across the sheets with his seed dripping from her made him harden instantly.

Hermione’s eyes flashed hotly as she scooted up the bed. With a wicked grin, he grabbed her leg, preventing her from moving farther away from him. Predatorily, Draco crawled after her and turned her hips over to pin her against the bed. She bit her lip, watching and waiting for him to make a move. 

The thick muscles of her arse quivered beneath him, the skin rippling in anticipation. He growled and bit one of her taunting cheeks lightly. She whimpered impatiently. 

“You sore, love?”

“I want you, Draco. Please!” his wife whined.

Ever obliging, Hades spread her still-wet thighs apart, his cock yearning for her heat. He slowly slid his cock inside, her position pulling him deeper, her muscles tighter around him. She clenched and made him hiss as he bottomed out. 

“Ready?” he breathed. Their skin was touching from head to toe, her soft, quaking skin beneath him, relying on him for pleasure. 

He felt her nod and her muscles squeezing him in encouragement. Carefully, he withdrew from her warmth, dragging against her walls. Hermione’s hips chased his back, yearning for his length to fill her up.

Draco plunged back into her, his pelvis slapping into her arse cheeks. He saw her hands grab the sheets as she moaned into the pillow. Repeating the motion, Draco concentrated on not spilling himself as they chased their pleasure in each other’s bodies. 

“Ah, Draco!” his wife cried, her muscles trying to milk his seed from him as she orgasmed. 

“That’s it, my love. So tight around my cock…’

After she was limp, he kept massaging her pussy as she continued to flutter around him. He kissed her shoulder sweeping her sweaty curls to the side. Hermione babbled into the pillow. Hooking his arm beneath her stomach, Draco brought her hips up so she was kneeling. 

He was draped over her now, their bodies still intimately connected. “Can you take more, Hermione?”

She moaned stretching and canting her hips back into his. His own pleasure stalled his intentions, her wetness now dripping onto his balls. 

“Can I really fuck you? Give you take all of my cock over and over again?” he murmured hotly into her ear.

Hermione whined, arching back into him again. He braced himself to let his restraint go. High on his knees, Draco gripped her hips and started thrusting into her cunt. The obscene noise of his pelvis hitting her arse made his balls tingle. His wife was moaning under him, stretching like a cat, face buried into the pillow, her arse high in the air. 

This was fucking. And it seemed as though his lovely little bride enjoyed it because she was coming again, her pussy trying to keep his relentless cock inside her as he fucked her. The tightness and rush of wetness around him were too much. 

Draco pumped into a few more times and then felt lightheaded as he came into her clenching womb. He thought he’d blacked out for a second and was dreaming when flowers started falling from the ceiling. The floral scent was pungent and heady… Lavender. 

He collapsed to her side, the petals surrounding them, sticking to their skin, attaching to her mess of curls. Hermione’s brown eyes were heavy as she peeked at him.

“Are you doing that?”

“What?” she sighed, bemused.

He grabbed a handful of lavender and tossed them over her. Hermione protested with a giggle. 

“I’m not doing anything… purposefully.” She reached for her wand and cleared the flowers after casting the contraceptive charm.

The King of the Underworld’s wish had come true. He had the brightest, nicest, fiercest witch all to himself. 

***

Hermione woke sore and sated from their post-wedding activities. She left her knackered husband snoozing with one leg hanging off the bed, his blonde fringe covering his eyes. Preparing her tea, Hermione gazed at the journal with a smile. 

All was well for the time being with her two best friends. She was married to a wizard she’d hated and fell in love with. For now, she didn’t want her two worlds to collide. It would complicate everything. Hermione wanted to enjoy at least another day until she had to face reality.

She wanted Liri to rest today, so Hermione went about preparing a light breakfast for her and her new husband to enjoy together in bed. Toast, jam, some fruit, and tea were enough to tide them over. With a tray transformed from a cutting board, Hermione carried the spread to the bedroom. 

A sliver of light erupted from the suite’s door suddenly, nearly making the witch drop the tray. A Persian cat patronus slinked around her feet before speaking. 

“Son, I need you to come home immediately,” Narcissa Malfoy’s regal yet frightened voice said. 

The cat evaporated leaving Hermione cold and nervous in its wake. Draco having to leave so soon wasn’t what she expected, but if his family was in danger… She had to tell him but after breakfast.

Ten minutes later, Draco was sleepily munching on toast. Hermione’s stomach was rioting and she couldn’t manage more than a bite of an apple. His grey eyes caught her nervous hand-wringing.

“Hermione? What is it?” His voice was deep with sleep still yet concerned.

She chewed on her lip for a minute until it all spilled out: “Your mother’s patronus showed up and said you needed to come home immediately.”

His eyes darkened, brow crinkling as he sat up. “I wouldn’t usually doubt you, love, but is that exactly what she said?”

Hermione nodded, but that didn’t seem to satisfy him. She waited for him to digest, to think, her insides tensing. If he’d waited any longer to say something, she would have combusted.

“I don’t know if I should go… It was a Persian cat, right?”

“Yes. Why do you think she needs you?”

Draco sighed. “She’s always needed me. I don’t think this request was hers voluntarily. She’d told me that she would contact me less due to our precarious situation. This is going to be another trial. The Dark Lord wants something from me.”

Hermione nodded, absorbing his interpretation. “Why did the patronus speak to me instead of you? They usually find the person they’ve been instructed to find.”

Draco took her hand, his thumb brushing over her wedding ring. “Because you’re my wife now. I’m sure with us in close proximity, it didn’t quite distinguish between us. My mother’s patronus had to come a long way, even for magical means.”

“This is dangerous, isn’t it?” Hermione said, knowing it was more a rhetorical question.

She saw Draco’s throat bob, his rigid posture. “Can you help me prepare to go?”

“How?” she asked in a small voice. Her vocal cords felt tight with worry.

“Legilimency. I need to practice Occluding.”

He gripped her hand a little harder, giving her the strength, the permission. Hermione knew he could tell she was hesitating.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Draco.”

He gave her a sad smile. “I know, love. But if there’s anything I’ve learned from my family, love hurts sometimes. It shouldn’t always, but it can be painful.”

A tear fell from her eye unbidden. Draco Malfoy’s life had seemed perfect when they were so young and now it was a nightmare. She had to be strong for him.

“Ready?” Hermione said determinedly.

He gave her a confident smirk and a nod. “ _ Legilimens. _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness! Work is super busy and my muse isn't really inspiring as of late. I'm trying to post on the weekends, but I may need to skip a week soon!


	43. Mind Palace

Gently, Hermione slipped into Draco’s mind like a hand donning a velvet glove. She immediately felt a chill as if she were in a frozen tundra. It was oppressive, most likely a low-level defense mechanism. And then, a wrought iron gate, as tall as a mountain stood before her. While there were gaps in the bars, whatever was behind it was blurry and indistinct. The harder Hermione squinted, the less detail she could make out behind the gate. 

It was another simple, yet effective Occlumency barrier. Hermione had read about strategies like this in her research. Predictably, the gate didn’t budge when she tried to push it open. Using her imagination, Hermione thought about making herself small enough to slide through the bars, visualizing the other side. 

She felt like she was being shoved through a compactor as her plan appeared to work, sliding through the bars. Her heart was pounding in her ears, lungs burning as she took in her new surroundings beyond the first obstacle. 

There was a dusty wall of mirrors before her. The mirrors were in elaborate frames of all different shapes and sizes: small ovals, life-size rectangles, head-sized circles, squares, and diamonds. It reminded her of the portrait-line corridors of Hogwarts and she wondered if Draco had drawn inspiration from their school. One mirror only reflected her eyes, forehead, and the top of her hair. 

The ground beneath her started to tremble, like an earthquake rattling the mirrors on the wall. And then, it stopped suddenly. Hermione belatedly realized that this was probably Draco’s emotional walls trembling.

She took a step back and thought about how an invader would test his defenses upon coming to this wall. While she didn’t want to hurt him, she needed to help him by strategically dismantling his mind palace. Drawing her mental wand, Hermione steeled herself.

“ _ Finestra,” _ she said clearly, the spell echoing in the mental chamber. 

The mirror across from her shattered and a howl seemed to appear behind it. She got a glimpse of something, a person with luminescent blonde hair behind where there should have been a back to the mirror. And then, the pieces repaired the mirror on the frame. 

“No mercy, Hermione,” she told herself. Haphazardly, the witch cast the shattering and reduction spells on the wall of mirrors at a pace where they couldn’t repair themselves fast enough.

The tremors in Draco’s mind began again until the entire wall before her shattered. The expanse wall in front of her now in front of her resembled an apothecary’s chest of drawers. The small compartments were unlabeled, but the drawer handles and knobs vary in size, shape, and ornateness similar to the mirrors. Undoubtedly this was Draco’s second line of defense. Drawers could be opened, but they had to be unlocked or broken open. 

If she were a malicious person, she would want to find out certain content instead of bursting things at random. This hypothetical thief would want to find out what Draco most cared about, what he was hiding from prying eyes, what could break him emotionally and spiritually.

Hermione thought back to the trails leading to the Sorcerer’s Stone. This was like the key test. The drawer had to fit the memory. Which drawer could possibly be the one leading to what Draco didn’t want someone to find? 

There were gold-leafed drawer pulls, crystal knobs, bejeweled handles, some grips were wood intricately carved into animals, and others looked like blown glass. And yet, none of them seemed to be hiding anything no matter how decadent they looked.

And then, she saw it. It wasn’t the topmost, but it was still several feet above her head. The knob was plain wood carved into a single rosebud. It was inauspicious enough to not heed a second glance. Somehow, she knew. 

“ _ Cistem Aperio _ ,” Hermione called, waving her wand. A jet of white light shot toward the drawer, but before it could hit, the drawers began to open and fall towards her like an avalanche. She gasped and exited his mind, ending their legilimency session.

Draco looked haggard as she regained her body. “H-how… How d-did you know?”

Hermione couldn’t even brag at knowing the answer. “You don’t want them to find me… and I knew what to look for.”

She watched her husband curl his fingers into his platinum tresses. He was shaking slightly and Hermione wasn’t sure if she should try to hold him after breaking into his mind. 

Red-rimmed flint-grey eyes caught hers as he rasped, “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. You’re too much part of me… You’re deep within me, Hermione, but you’re the best, lightest part of my darkened soul. They’ll see it. They’ll know if they don’t already.”

Hermione’s heart was smothered by his frustration. “I can’t be convinced this is a total trap… What if my mother needs me? What if-- if I’m the only one who can save her?” 

Draco shook his head, hair standing up at all angles. Hermione tried warming one of his clammy hands in hers, trying to think of an alternative, of a solution. The Persian cat had interrupted their holiday, darkness seemingly knocking at their door.

She gasped at the idea that came like a bolt of lightning. “A Patronus! Can you cast one, Draco?”

His pale brow furrowed as he shook his head. “I’ll teach you, love. Harry taught the DA and I can certainly teach you. I was thinking that if you can send one back, you can see if your mother really needs you or if she’s being manipulated.”

“Alright. I suppose if Potter can do it, I should too,” Draco huffed and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Before we get to casting, do you have a powerful memory that’s positive, that embodies pure happiness for you?”

Draco squeezed the hand that was holding his others, his lunar-eclipse pupils dilating as he stared at her intently. Hermione couldn’t help the swooping sensation that ran through her at the implication. She was his secret and his happiness. 

“I could light the entire fucking Underworld on fire if you wished it, my dear Persephone. I can certainly cast a spell at the mere thought of you loving me,” he said sincerely.

Her mouth was suddenly dry, so instead of responding, she took out her wand and showed him the movement. He executed it perfectly in two tries. Hermione smiled at her husband with pride. 

Regaining her enthusiasm, Hermione explained, “The most important part of the corporeal Patronus is the memory, so make it a good one, love.”

His smirk was loaded with lascivious meaning, his eyes tracing her form in appreciation. Hermione folded her arms in mock resilience, but she rubbed her legs together subconsciously.

“Go on then.”

“ _ Expecto patronum!” _ Silvery light spilled out of his wand but didn’t form anything as it dissipated.

Determined, Draco repeated the spell, his eyes alight with wonder. This time, the slight started to meld together, a head and tail forming first. Then, it became a silvery wolf, which loped slowly towards Hermione in greeting.

She couldn’t help but giggle as the wolf sniffed her, its tail wagging excitedly. Hermione saw Draco’s stunned expression at his Patronus and felt a shiver of delight at his newfound skill. 

“Now, you’ll want to ask your wolf to find your mother and ask her something only she would know the answer to. Since no one knows you can cast a Patronus, they won’t expect an answer if she’s being coerced.”

Draco nodded at her sound plan, the weight seemingly lifting from his shoulders. “I hope this will buy us some time,” he sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - I wrote this on the fly tonight since I had a ridiculously busy week, so hopefully it's not too cobbled together. There may be more than a week between chapters as my work weeks become busier, so I appreciate your patience!
> 
> Additionally, I have to give the credit for the memories organized by drawers to the talented novelist Dara Horn in her book "A Guide for the Perplexed" -- I highly recommend it!


	44. Betrayal

After the holiday had passed with both jubilation and anxiety, Hermione hadn’t seen her husband for nearly a day. She thought he’d just been catching up on Underworld work at first, but he’d neglected to come to see her for afternoon tea and then dinner. Hermione wondered if he’d received a response from his mother, but the more she thought about it, the less his avoidance made sense for that reason. 

More than likely, Draco was stewing over the fact that he hadn’t heard anything from his mother nor her captors at the Manor. She knew he couldn’t go without risking everything, especially since the Fates’ providence of a Persephone. And yet, he’d done just yet for his wife, before he even really knew her or what she meant to him. Why wouldn’t he do the same for the woman who’d given birth to him? Hermione’s stomach lurched in fear.

“Liri!”

“Queen Persephone calls Liri?” the elf said after popping into the sitting room.

“Where’s Draco, Liri? I need to know.” The tiny creature wrung her hands in nervousness, her ears flattening.

“The King is on business, Queen Persephone.” Elven eyes cowered under Hermione’s scrutiny.

Persephone folded her arms across her chest in determination. “Bring me to his office, then, Liri.”

She hated to make her small helper tremble with trepidation, but she needed to save Draco from himself. 

“King Hades is away, my Queen,” Liri squeaked. 

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Bring me to his office anyway, please.”

Her tone brokered no argument. She could feel the elf’s frightened touch as Liri took them to Draco’s office. It was empty, of course. Hermione hadn’t doubted the elf’s truthfulness, after all.

With her wand, she lit a fire in the hearth and Floo-called Thanatos. It took a few minutes of waiting, but his disheveled head appeared in the green fire after a moment. The boy looked startled at her summons.

“G-Granger? What are you doing calling me from Hades’ office?” 

“Where is he?” Hermione demanded.

“You’ll have to be--”

“Don’t you dare, you lousy half-wit! Where’s Draco?” Even in the fire, she could see him cast his eyes away.

The wizard sighed. “He’s back in the Wizarding World.”

Hermione clenched her teeth, tears stinging her eyes. “W-we had a plan,” she sputtered to no one in particular. “I th-thought he understood how dangerous this was…”

“Granger, get a grip. If he went, he likely felt that he had no choice. That git risked everything for you, do you think he’d intentionally fuck all that up now?”

Hermione hugged herself, nails digging into her sides. “How could he not tell me? What if I never see him again?” she sobbed.

“He knew you’d make him stay, Princess,” Theo said glibly. “Why do you think us Slytherins are so secretive? We don’t want anyone to interfere with our plans, to spoil them.”

She couldn’t help feeling betrayed by her husband of two days. Now Hermione was a prisoner in the Underworld even more so than when she’d first come. She was forced into the dark, unable to do anything but wallow. 

***

Guilt had been devouring him ever since he’d decided to go against his wife’s plan. Without a reply to his message to his mother, Draco couldn’t avoid thinking the worst. The Death Eaters were holding her hostage to control him and his father. His mother was strong, but she’d had her life upended twice by Lord Voldemort. And now her only son was a pawn in the scheme. 

Of course, it was partially his fault for trying to rescue Hermione Granger and perhaps endangering her further by doing so. It was all his fault. His choices lead to nothing by grief and fear. A self-pitying tear rolled down his cheek before he could swipe it away. Crying would do nothing to help his mother or wife.

Fortifying himself, he’d waited and prepared his mind by finding his godfather in the Headmaster’s office at Hogwarts. Snape had barely glanced at him indifferently before silently invading Draco’s mind. It took all his strength to not fall to his knees as the former Hades blazed through his defenses. It was a ruthless assault, but necessary. 

With some effort, Snape had found traces of Hermione and his love for her, of which he snidely informed Draco after he was done. The younger wizard loosened his white-knuckled grip on the chair before addressing his godfather.

“How did you do it? How did you prevent them from finding out about Lily?” 

Snape examined him coolly. Draco was surprised he didn’t snap at him for mentioning his lost love. The professor was silent for so long that the blonde thought he wouldn’t answer. Severus Snape ran his hands through his messy locks.

“She was with Potter, had their son, I had barely any hope to hold onto except that she would be better off without my protection. That she would live even with that braggart by her side. Clearly, I was wrong, but you were wrong as well. You did the opposite and now you’re married to the witch. Do you realize that you signed her death warrant?” 

Anger was his first response to his godfather’s unforgiving words. “I would give my life for hers! She deserves to live through this war more than anyone,” he screamed, his voice hitching at the end. 

“You’re not going to like my advice, boy.” Draco saw the drawn expression on his godfather’s sallow face. 

“What is it?”

“Stop hiding her. Stop trying to conceal what you’ve done. You need to present Persephone to the Immortal realm.” 

***

Hermione whimpered softly at the searing pain as the long-fingered hand tugged at her curls and pushed her to her knees. She was wrapped in magenta silk like a prized sacrifice sent to slaughter. Nevertheless, the Gryffindor witch had to school her features into a fiery dominance.

“I present you Persephone. She may look like a flower in bloom, but she’s as deadly as nightshade,” the mocking voice of her childhood bully rang out in the ballroom. 

Draco knelt beside her in all black before the Dark Lord. A majority of the Immortals were present besides Zeus himself, as part of the side of the Light. His aunt slipped out of her seat for a closer look at the illustrious couple. The cruel lips frowned at Hermione, a bolt of fear flashing through her like lightning. 

“Drakey, this is Potter’s mudblood,” she said in disgust. Hermione resisted the urge to spit in the dark witch’s face. “What happened to that dull Greengrass girl?”

“Don’t worry, Aunt Bella. Astoria knows how things stand with Persephone and I. I take our relationship the same way as I take my responsibility as Hades: with pleasure and pain. It’ll be over as soon as my role is complete… Isn’t that right, Persephone?”

The hand twisted into her hair again and pulled her head toward his. Hermione swallowed thickly and drew her lips into a snarl. “Yes, my King,” she bit out venomously.

“That’s enough from you,” Draco stated crisply and silenced her. Hermione glared at him knowing that she could remove the spell if she needed to. 


	45. Announcement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The court of the Immortals resumes!

Upon seeing the wizard known as Lord Voldemort, Hermione’s first instinct was to run, to flee as far away from the inhuman creature the rest of the ballroom bowed to. Draco had silenced her with a spell, proving his power over his queen. Fortunately, the several layers of skirts of her ballgown provided some padding for her knees as she and her husband were inspected by the court. 

She felt woefully blindsided and unprepared for this appearance. After hiding for so long, Hermione wasn't sure what to make of Draco's willful breach of their privacy and security. Her husband had been distant and closed off since his return. She could tell he was occluding, but he'd refrained from doing that with her since they fell in love. Something had happened, but he wouldn't tell her anything other than she was to wear the ballgown for an occasion. 

Hermione hadn't been sure of what to make of his cold demands. Perhaps, Draco was attempting to make his odd absence up to her. Of course, he'd allowed her to rant at him until she was out of steam. Her husband had taken her verbal ammunition stonily, which should have made her angrier but only worried her further about him. She'd stomped away to don the pinkish-purple gown and wrangled her curls into a chignon. Before she could ask what his plan was, he whisked them away to a large castle...

Hermione fought the urge to swivel her head to see who else was present. She kept her eyes on the ancient, well-preserved flooring a few feet before it met Voldemort’s feet. The only noise in the room was the idle chatter of the Immortals surrounding them, but Hermione’s heartbeat was drowning out most of the sound.

She was focusing on her steady breathing, her occluding. The ring on her finger felt heavy and foreign in the presence of these witches and wizards. Keeping tight control over her magic was taking a toll on her. She itched to fire everything she had at the dark wizard in front of her. 

And she wanted to hex her arse of a husband for his angry swagger. So far, the wizard known as Lord Voldemort had yet to say a word about their announcement. He had yet to comment on her blood status or her friendship with his archnemesis -- only Bellatrix had done so. 

Suddenly, her stomach was seizing, almost heaving as those smokey robes advanced into her sightline. The stench of dark magic and decay wafted into her nostrils like brimstone. The fabric slithered over the marble floor as he approached. 

“I can see her appeal, young Draco. A rose with her roots buried in shit and dirt.” 

The bone-like long fingers fluttered around her cheeks as she struggled to keep her eyes open and her breathing normal. It felt like being grabbed by an inferius -- Harry had told her what it was like. Hermione panicked when his corpse-like hand started to close around her face. The evil wizard's proximity filled her with horror, dread, and helplessness.

At least, Hermione thought, that if she died here, no one would know where Harry was. She'd fight to the death to keep that secret and no one but her could read the journal. It was all proof that she'd done the right thing with her parents. The former Grangers now Wilkinsons didn't have a daughter to grieve over. It proved that Draco's original plan to keep her safe had backfired. The only positive was their love that Hermione was desperately trying to hold onto as the fear washed over her.

Then, she felt it. The buzzing of her wand. Her eyes widened at the red slits examining her like an animal in a zoo. Could he hear it? Would he seize her wand since he believed her magic was stolen by her Muggle parents? Would he find out that --

Hermione watched his snake-like face crumpled into surprise, anger, and pain. The most powerful dark wizard in the world cringed away from Persephone. She felt the air in the room thicken with gasps and cries of surprise. 

“Everyone out!” Voldemort bellowed. The room crackled with raw magical energy as the court of the Immortals fled. A strong arm wrapped around her waist to haul her up.

*** 

Draco wished he’d cast a cushioning charm on his knees before entering the ballroom. His muscles had been stiff kneeling on the marble floor, trying to contain his rage and keep his mental barriers up. He wasn't sure what to expect. The Death Eaters all knew that their leader was unpredictable as demonstrated by his second public meltdown in days.

Now, he was helping Hermione up off the floor, her shock and delayed reaction completely understandable. Draco nearly tripped over her skirts as she tried to regain her footing. Grabbing her hand, he nearly dragged her along to follow his mother. He hadn’t been able to look at her without betraying his concern and confusion. 

He’d steeled himself for the acting, for reverting to his father-esque bullying days. Daphne had ensured that the Greengrasses were occupied during this last-minute reception of the Immortals, which provided them a bullet-proof cover for their news. However, nothing had prepared him for witnessing his wife being touched by the Dark Lord as if she were a monkey in a cage. 

“Mother!” he hissed as he followed her to a balcony with a baffled Hermione in tow. 

Narcissa Malfoy turned to her son with an expression of betrayal. “What have you done, Draco?”

Her eyes darted between him and Hermione. “Your patronus, Mother. Did they make you send it? Is that why you didn’t respond to mine?” 

The elder blonde witch blinked and then her eyes narrowed. “You came here for me? You put everyone in danger, son.”

A lump formed in his throat, but he took the pains to swallow it. “The only way we are going to survive is playing by their rules, mother. You’ve seen how they play their games.”

His mother grimaced. “What if he’d seen the truth in your mind, her mind? He could have killed us all on the spot! What if he’d killed your wife on her knees? His dismissal bought you time, but he could come for her, for you at any time,” she whispered, her voice cracking into a sob.

The strong Malfoy matriarch was breaking in front of his eyes. “Mother,” he reached for her hand with the one that wasn’t in his wife’s. “Come back to the Underworld, tell your sister you’re spending the New Year with your son.”

Her lip trembled. “It’s not safe…”

“Nowhere is safe, mother. Not while he’s alive.” Her hand felt fragile in his and it trembled. 

Before either witch could argue anything else, Draco apparated them to the Underworld. Upon landing, he braced himself for a tongue-lashing and perhaps a few vengeful hexes. The dead look in Hermione's eyes made his blood run cold. She said nothing and turned on her heel to storm until her bedroom and slam the door. 

"You better prepare your sofa for tonight, son," good mother shrewdly commented.

He sighed. "I'll sleep on the sofa, Mother."

She huffed at him, "I know."

Why did he have to trust Snape? What did that greasy potions master know about women anyway? His godfather hadn't been able to protect his Muggleborn, so why did Draco take any of his advice? Hermione may not forgive him. 


	46. Aftermath

Hermione was on autopilot as she undressed and directed a worried Liri to draw a bath. The heat of the water was probably near scalding, but it couldn’t penetrate her bones and the hailstorm of her swirling thoughts. She was trying to replay everything that happened that day in order to make sense of it in her mind. It was difficult with missing pieces, chiefly the triggered change in Draco.

He’d blatantly disregarded her plan. He’d left her and then withheld the truth as to where they were going. She had completely unprepared for an audience with Voldemort and his followers. What if their snake lord had forced himself into her mind? Would he have believed Draco’s love for her in her memories? 

Did  _ she _ still believe in his love for her? Draco had done what he said he’d never do: threw her into the snake pit, the den of darkness. He had paraded her around like a pet on a leash, a baboon in a ballgown. 

One element was tripping her up from accusing him of total betrayal… Why had he allowed her to keep her wand if he wanted her at his mercy and the Death Eaters’? Why hadn’t she done  _ anything _ ? Why had she gone along with everything? During that hour, she’d been alone. 

Hermione Granger had always had Harry, Ron, her professors, or her books. All she had was her wand and barely her wits in that ancient, unfamiliar castle. She’d frozen; that’s why she was trying to thaw herself out. 

Besides relaxing her muscles and pruning her skin, she didn’t feel any warmer. Dragging her heavy feet, she went into the bedroom wrapped in her towel. Her stomach flipped at the sight of the journal on her bedside table. She flashed back to the castle ballroom when her wand had buzzed and then the dark wizard had shrank away in pain.

Harry had written! She scrambled for the journal, stammered the password, and flipped it to the newest page, her heart knocking against her ribs.

_ Hermione, Ron destroyed the locket with the sword! Four more to go. Had to tell Ron that there was nothing going on between you and me… romantically. The locket tried to tell him that we are in love! Can you believe that? He said he’s sorry for leaving and we both wish you were here with us.  _

She bit her lip. Her crush on Ron had dissolved into nothing more than friendship and now her love for Draco was on the rocks too. Even with the success of destroying one horcrux, it seemed like they had a long way to go. And if Dumbledore’s instructions to Harry could be believed, it could take them years to discover and kill the pieces of Voldemort’s soul. Did they have that amount of time before Harry would be captured?

Hermione’s brain was working overtime to try to create some semblance of order after her beliefs had been shaken last night. She felt manipulated and betrayed by someone she loved. 

And then it hit her. Voldemort had felt the horcrux being destroyed when he pulled away from her and sent his audience home! He was connected to the parts of his soul, so it only made sense that he would be aware of when one of them was destroyed. The Order’s only hope was that their horcrux hunt wouldn’t be interrupted by Voldemort’s sensing. Perhaps he didn’t know why he’d felt that pain or weakness.

Knowing she couldn’t work all this out by herself and in her current state of mind, Hermione turned to the book Dumbledore had left for her after his death:  _ The Tales of Beetle the Bard.  _ The stories were for children, clearly, but Hermione had yet to discover its importance. It wasn’t functional magically like Ron’s deluminator and it didn’t have any sentimental value like Harry’s snitch. As a muggleborn, she hadn’t grown up with wizarding stories, so maybe that was why Dumbledore left it to her?

From what Hermione had surmised, Dumbledore always had a hidden purpose for all his advice or instructions. It couldn’t be as simple as a children’s book. She’d dozed off reading the final story on her bed, but a knock woke her sometime later.

“Go away, Draco.”

“It’s Narcissa, Hermione, dear.”

Hermione sighed and threw on some pajamas hastily before answering the door. Draco’s mother looked a bit haggard and drawn as she stood there expectantly. 

“I’ve had some tea prepared,” the older witch said, gesturing to the table in the sitting room. Hermione’s head felt heavy as she nodded and followed. 

“If you’re here to defend Draco, then we don’t have much to talk about, Narcissa.”

Mrs. Malfoy took a dainty sip of tea before saying, “I can’t defend my son’s actions. His decision was dangerous for everyone involved. I suspect he received some ill-informed advice.”

Hermione furrowed her brow. “From who? Someone in the wizarding realm? That’s why he left...”

Narcissa gave a quick nod, but didn’t elaborate. “He owes us both an explanation,” Hermione continued. 

Both witches sighed. Draco would have to face both witches he loved and wanted to protect with his reckless actions. 

***

Lethe was eluding him and he most likely deserved to be sleepless. Draco felt sick to his stomach with both his mother and wife upset with him. They were formidable witches and he could only blame himself for taking Snape’s advice. 

It would most likely be days until Hermione would talk to him. His mother at least acknowledged him, but finally, he had to get up after his sleepless night. Draco knew he deserved to be miserable. Splashing water on his face, he dressed for the day to head to his office in shame. He deserved to walk the seemingly endless hallway instead of apparating there, so he trudged out of his quarters. 

The King of the Underworld was out of breath by the time he made it into his office. He closed his eyes as he shut the door, leaning against it, letting the roaring fire bead sweat on his brow. 

“Quite the show last night,” Theo’s voice drawled from his chair. The wizard spun to face Draco, back to the fire now. 

Thanatos yelped as Draco zapped him with a wandless stinging hex. “Out of my chair, you ingrate!”

He couldn’t even be mad at Theo for ambushing him, but it was a good outlet for his anger at himself and his godfather. The sarcastic wizard leisurely stretched as he vacated Hades’ chair. Draco glowered at him as he sat. 

“You’ve come to rub this in my face then?”

Theo smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I came to question your fucking sanity, Draco.”

Hades steepled his hands in front of his face, examining the edge of his desk. When he didn’t respond, chatty Thanatos continued.

“How could you wave Potter’s prized, muggleborn friend in the Dark Lord’s face like a trophy? He knows just where to find her in case he feels like torturing someone! You’re lucky he didn’t  _ avada _ you on the spot for marrying the witch!”

Draco blinked at Theo, a fellow Slytherin he’d known since they were in diapers. His jaw was tense, his hazel eyes glinting, fists clenched at his sides. 

“You actually care about this, Theo?” he asked without teasing.

His pseudo friend looked offended and scoffed. “No, I just… As a Slytherin, I expect you to be more cunning and less stupid! That was something bold and brash like Potter would have done,” Theo argued.

“Take. That. Back,” Draco growled.

Theo pursed his lips and looked away. “It was Snape’s advice! He told me to stop hiding. Potter would never listen to my godfather.”

The wizard arched a dark blonde brow. Draco felt like a child, a fool.

“He told me to show my hand, to stop hiding. He thought that if it were out in the open that the Dark Lord would care less, that he would trust me again,” Draco explained. 

Thanatos examined his nails idly. “Didn’t seem like your wife knew this.”

Hades swallowed his guilt. “I couldn’t tell her. She wouldn’t have gone.”

“That’s why she was always at the top of our class. Your wife is smarter than you, Draco. She trusted you and you paid her back with stupidity!”

He banged his fist on the wood desk. “I know! Now, leave me, Thanatos. Report any activity at the gates or traveling to the Underworld at once.”

“You’re going to need more than Fluffy once the Dark Lord comes,” Theo warned. Draco waved him out. 

Hades poured over documents and figures for hours, his head starting to hurt from the lack of sleep. He knew he should just take some dreamless sleep potion and knock himself out on the sofa. There was no way his mother or wife would bother him in their anger. 

Stepping out of his office, Draco was shocked to find himself facing a woman with dark hair, but it was not his wife. He blinked at her, his mouth and brain stalling.

“A-Astoria?” he stuttered. She sneered at him, something he was unfamiliar with since she seemed to always flirt with him. 

“Explain why I received a floo call from your aunt today with her questions about our  _ arrangement _ ?” She folded her flowing robe sleeves over her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For point of reference, in the canon (and this fic), Ron destroys the locket on December 28th.


	47. Explanation

By the time Draco returned to his quarters, it was well past supper time. He still hadn’t approached his wife since Astoria had been angry and inconsolable. Draco didn’t even want to think about Aunt Bella’s reaction to his lie, but he was glad that his mother was in the Underworld with him instead of at the manor. 

He barely spared his mother a glance when he saw her gracefully lounging in an armchair, but her eyes were hawklike, waiting for him to expose his soft underbelly. At the drink cart, Draco poured himself three fingers of firewhiskey and knocked it all back, scalding his mouth and throat. He felt numb, so the firing of his nerves felt good despite the pain.

“Son, you’ve been hiding all day,” his mother accused.

His fingers trembled as he reached for the bottle once more. Draco’s pride couldn’t be stung any worse today than it already had been. Instant nausea in his empty stomach made him contemplate the second tumbler he’d poured.

“I was accosted first by Theo and then Astoria.” 

He didn’t need to look up from the amber liquid to see that his mother’s eyebrow had peaked in interest. Every small movement in the room seemed amplified to him now that the whiskey started to thrum through his veins like liquid heat. Draco could feel Hermione’s storming emotions nearly as clearly as she could. The lack of her presence shook him to the core.

“She’s leaving,” was all his mother said with a sigh.

Draco nodded into his glass. “I made Daphne come to collect her. Thanatos needs to do his job better. Can’t just have anyone waltzing into the Underworld, can we?”

“He’s intercepted Hermione, then?”

His fingers went nerveless, the crystal tumbler falling onto the plush carpet. Vision spinning as he whipped his head towards his mother.

“Sh-she’s t-trying to leave?” Draco sputtered, brain attempting to reboot. 

Narcissa Malfoy’s lips formed a thin pink line across her tired face but said nothing.

Now, he certainly felt like vomiting. His wife was so upset that she was trying to leave him. She couldn’t; she was Persephone. It would be months before she could leave. Months of hating him, freezing him out. Draco felt faint, a cold sweat slicking his pale brow. 

“I suggest you appeal to her forgiveness. She’s done it once, Draco. Let it be the last,” his mother warned forebodingly. 

Apparating on the spot, he landed near the gates. Theo was nowhere in sight, but Hermione stood small and alone at the looming gates, wand in hand. 

***

Someone had come for her. Hermione wasn’t sure if she wanted it to be Theo or Draco. She heard whoever it was walking towards her, the pit in her stomach growing deeper and deeper with each step. Persephone was in Hell.

The figure stood in her periphery and Hermione knew it was her husband. She could sense him and his trepidation. A yard from her, Draco dropped to his knees, blonde head bowed in submission, long fingers splayed out on his thighs. 

The King of the Underworld was kneeling to his queen. It took everything she had to turn towards him. He still didn’t lift his eyes. His shoulders were shaking.

“I-I’m s-sorry, H-Hermione. I didn’t want t-to hurt you… I-I didn’t think there was another way. I was a fool... again. I should never have dragged you here, I should have never taken you to… to  _ him _ . 

“You were wrong, for once. I haven’t changed at all. I’m still that awful, selfish prick who tormented you in the corridors, who deserved your punch to the face. I can’t ask for your forgiveness again because I don’t deserve it…” 

Draco Malfoy was sobbing at her feet, apologizing. His soul was not completely bared to her, but this was his rock bottom. Hands digging into his thighs, her childhood bully cowered. She swallowed her own emotions, reactions, and put the tip of her wand beneath his chin to raise his eyes to hers.

Hermione saw fear and self-loathing in his swollen, bloodshot eyes. He sniffled, throat bobbing, but he didn’t move away from the point of her wand. Draco Malfoy was broken, reduced to the sallow, sleep-deprived, fear-driven boy from last year.

“Do it,” he hissed, voice thick with phlegm. “Punish me, hex me to death, Hermione…” 

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, King of the Underworld, heir to one of the sacred twenty-eight families, is sniveling at his muggleborn wife’s feet, begging for pain, for death,” she whispered as if narrating the scene to herself. His lips trembled as if he wanted to say more, but the glare she shot him silenced that.

“I could do anything to you,” Hermione mused sadly. “But I would never punish you like that, Draco. You’re not capable of doing anything unforgivable. I want an explanation.”

He looked resigned and slightly disappointed. Sighing, she reached down to help him up, his hand trembling in hers. All Hermione wanted to do was wrap her arms around him, just to see the glow of their love light up his complexion. She didn’t, she forced herself not to comfort him. 

They landed in her quarters seconds later. Hermione lit a fire and summoned the tea service she’d convinced Liri to leave for her own use. She pushed Draco down in an armchair and poured his tea, doctoring it how she knew he liked it. He stared into the steam as if trying to divine answers from its swirling patterns. 

Draco’s mouth opened and she leaned forward in her chair. Then, his jaw snapped shut, teeth clenching together. He set his tea on the table and then curled his fingers into his platinum hair. His silver eyes looked feral when his head whipped up towards her. 

“I’ll show you,” he blurted out. “Please, Hermione.”

Her husband was still clutching his skull as if it would fall apart if he released his grip. He was allowing her into his mind once again. She considered her wand for a moment. 

“Before I do that, tell me how you felt before you left.”

Draco’s face drooped, his mouth falling into a grimace. She knew he had trouble expressing himself on a good day, but she couldn’t simply perform Legilimency every time he couldn’t open up. Hermione watched him fidget, sipping her tea.

“I-I felt… I-I love you, so fucking much, Granger,” he warbled. “And everything so far, up until we married was cleaning up my first mess. Falling in love with you was the most fortunate outcome I couldn’t even have imagined. But… now… we’re hiding away. We stagnated without a way to move forward to ending the reign of terror in the wizarding world. If Potter had you, you’d probably be doing something to stop the Dark Lord.

“I felt helpless, Hermione. I’m depriving the world of the brightest witch of her age and keeping her in Hell… I didn’t know what to do.”

A stray tear rolled down his porcelain cheek. She tightened her fist around her wand to avoid wiping the tear away. Steel gray eyes met hers and he nodded his consent.

“ _ Legilimens. _ ”

_ Sorrow and anger filled her upon seeing Snape in Dumbledore’s office. Draco appeared agitated from her observing position in his memory.  _

_ “How did you do it? How did you prevent them from finding out about Lily?” Draco asked as Snape withdrew his wand from its position pointing at his godson. _

_ Hermione saw Snape's grimace. “She was with Potter, had their son, I had barely any hope to hold onto except that she would be better off without my protection. That she would live even with that braggart by her side. Clearly, I was wrong, but you were wrong as well. You did the opposite and now you’re married to the witch. Do you realize that you signed her death warrant?”  _

_ Hermione’s jaw dropped at her professor’s words. Snape must have cared for Harry's mum at school. She wasn't sure of the background, but what surprised her more was how Snape was treating Draco. He’d never been her favorite teacher and had never treated her well, but he was challenging. She never thought he’d speak so harshly to his godson no matter the situation. It was no wonder Draco had gone fully off the rails after this conversation. _

_ “I would give my life for hers! She deserves to live through this war more than anyone,” he screamed, his voice hitching at the end. A frisson of pride ran through Hermione at his defense.  _

_ “You’re not going to like my advice, boy.”  _

_ “What is it?” _

_ “Stop hiding her. Stop trying to conceal what you’ve done. You need to present Persephone to the Immortal realm.”  _

_ Hermione felt boiling rage on top of Draco’s own shock at that moment. She pulled out of his mind more forcefully than she meant to and was sure he’d probably develop a headache from it.  _

Draco crumpled into his chair, the tea forgotten. “I’m sorry,” he seemed to be repeating over and over as he rocked himself. 

“You don’t trust me,” she stated. 

He sat up like a dog spotting a rabbit. “No, Hermione--”

“If you trusted me, you would have told me about this  _ before _ tricking me into going.  _ I  _ trusted  _ you _ by following, by not arguing too much, not asking too many questions. You betrayed that, Draco. You showed me your true Slytherin colors after you pledged yourself, your love to me,” she accused. She couldn’t help the hot, angry tears streaming down her face. 

Her husband backed down, slumping. “You have your explanation. I thought putting our relationship all out into the open would help us… but Snape was wrong. I fucked everything up.”

“You were caught in two lies, Draco. One to me and another to the most powerful dark wizard of our time. It’s only a matter of time before he discovers it. There was one positive outcome, though.”

He blinked at her in disbelief. “Harry and Ron took another step in defeating your Dark Lord, that’s why he flinched away from me. I’m not certain he knows what exactly happened or who is to blame, but he felt it in the core of his being.”

She felt some accomplishment for putting the awed expression on Draco’s face. He didn’t say anything, but there was the slightest amount of relief in his eyes. Hermione went over to perch on the arm of his chair, her back to the roaring fire. 

“I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t excuse your betrayal of my trust. I think I can forgive you in time, but you’ll need to rebuild it, Draco,” she warned but stroked his cheek, his skin instantly warming. 

He turned his head to kiss her palm reverently. “I will devote every waking moment making this up to you,” he promised. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I'll circle back to the Astoria part, but Draco and Hermione needed to face each other.


	48. Apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the past few chapters have been intense, I'm giving you a bit of smut ;)

Draco reached for her and smiled when she allowed his hands to cradle her face. Her expression was soft, her features set in dark relief by the hearth behind her.  _ Gods, he wanted to kiss her, worship her. If only she’d allow him to. He wanted her to trust him again. _

“I love you so much, Hermione,” he said, leaning in to try to kiss her, searching for her acceptance. She met him, their lips brushing sensually. 

“You were so brave with the terrible situation I put you in…” Draco continued whispering against her lips. “You are so fair and forgiving of my errors. Can I show you how sorry I am?”

He felt her lips form the word “yes” against his before it reached his ears. Nipping at the corner of Hermione’s mouth, he teased her until she gripped his face to hold him still. She pulled him into a heady snog that left him more relieved and aroused that he’d been since their wedding. 

“I thought I wouldn’t want this… to be intimate with you again for a while, but honestly… I need to be close to you. I need to feel you... make sure you feel the same to me… that I can trust you with my pleasure first,” she panted, now astride his lap, their lips meeting and breaking for breath. 

He devoured her lips hungrily, needing this chance to prove himself to her. Draco knew he wouldn’t be worthy of her, not to his own standards anyway, but he would try to show her that he could barely forgive himself for his transgressions. 

“Are you sure?” Draco growled as he stood, her legs wrapping around him. 

She sighed as his teeth skated down her neck. “Please, Draco.”

Who was he to deny her? It would be pleasurable for him, sure, but he was grateful to be near her let alone inside her. He had to show her that she could rely on him to make her feel like she was in heaven instead of being stuck in Hell.

***

Hermione was swept up in her husband’s arms, in his gentleness, in his arduous nature. It went against her understanding of how these contentious situations should go, yet it felt right. She knew she would feel better to reconnect with him, realign their magical cores. In another sense, Hermione felt bloody powerful, which also went against her sensibilities, but she wanted him to please her after betraying her.

“Lay me down by the fire,” she requested. Draco complied gently, supporting her head with his hand as he knelt between her legs. 

Her stomach flipped upon seeing him bathed by the orange glow, his fair hair like a flame. She started wrestling his shirt from his torso, but he stilled her hands with a smirk. With a few swift movements, Draco was free from his clothing except for his pants, which she could see the outline of his hardened member. Hermione couldn’t help but squirm under his gaze in her clothing that now felt more uncomfortable than a cashmere sweater and leggings. 

He started to slowly peel her leggings down, dragging her knickers with them, seemingly waiting for permission, but she simply lifted her hips to help him. Hermione had expected him to remove his underwear and her jumper, yet his hands ran up her legs, parting them and teasing her sensitive skin until they reached under her and lifted her bottom. 

A thrill bolted through her core as his tongue darted out to lick his lips, his eyes focused on her apex. That same mouth ravaged her inner thighs, hips thrusting to bring him closer to her heat. 

"This teasing is only for your pleasure, Hermione. The longer I do it, the harder you'll cum," Draco said in a dulcet tone. She couldn't help but moan at the sensations, which were not enough and too much at the same time.

Hermione shrieked when he nipped playfully at her clit. Then, he avoided the bundle of nerves in favor of her glistening pink nether lips. She could feel and hear how wet she was as he explored her, the sounds overpowering the crackle of the hearth. Her nails scratched down his scalp, pulling at his silken hair. His own moans’ vibrations made her whimper. Draco was feasting on her, but her pussy clenched around nothing. She was impatient and wanton, the orgasm she so desperately needed out of reach.

“Draco! Please… let me cum… I need to…” she babbled. 

He seemed to ignore her for a moment, continuing his delicious torture until he suddenly thrust two fingers inside her weeping cunt. Hermione immediately and greedily clamped down on them, the intrusion enough to send her spiralling into an orgasm. She could have sworn she was floating on a gentle breeze instead of laid out in front of the fireplace in Hell. She drifted slowly back to her body, Draco’s fingers still coaxing her back from her high. 

The firelight made his face glisten with her spend as he licked his sticky lips. Hermione gazed at him with heavy eyes, her body now one with the carpet beneath her. She had melted under his ministrations. Beckoning him to her, his chiseled torso didn’t touch her sensitive skin as his luminescent eyes met her dark brown. 

“Make love to me, Draco. Please.” He kissed her gently, his tongue drenched in the scent of her own arousal. She hummed into her mouth.

“You never have to ask. I’ll always make love to you, Hermione.” His voice was raw with need and it made her crave him more.

With a thought, she magicked his briefs away, his dick springing against his lower abs. Hermione licked her lips, but knew he didn’t deserve her mouth on him yet. This was about Draco making it up to her. 

Hermione mewled as he coated his cock in her juices, rubbing against her folds. While she thought she was ready for him, her body had a different opinion. It seemed that her inner muscles didn’t want to allow him entrance and it took several minutes of him fondling her breasts and nuzzling her neck to relax them. She pulsed around him as he sheathed himself, now sliding deliciously through her sodden passage. 

Wrapping her legs around him, Hermione was once again on the edge of the precipice of pleasure. He was deep inside her, whispering words of love into her slick skin. She felt her magic reach for his, intertwining, bonding them. This was the first step in trusting him wholeheartedly again. 

Her thighs started to shake and he murmured, “Are you going to cum for me, love? Show me how much I’m pleasing you… I want to please you… make you feel good…” 

A few more hard thrusts and she dug her nails into his waist, head thrown back against the floor. Hermione squeezed around his hard cock, unable to even dignify her release with his name. She cried out senselessly, black spots clouding her vision. Her orgasm and magic were tingling through her as he continued to pump into her lazily, still hard inside her.

“Can you take more of my cock, sweetheart? Are you too sensitive?” Draco cooed. 

“More,” was all she could say, her wits still somewhere in the ether. The feel of him filling her up was all she could concentrate on. 

“BLOODY FUCK!” Draco yelled, his cock stilling inside her. Her eyes popped open, thinking he had reached his climax suddenly.

She saw a silver cat hovering over them and then his mother’s voice, “Thanatos couldn’t stop Bella from coming here. We need to confront her, now.”

Hermione whimpered as Draco pulled out of her quickly, his phallus still wet and hard from her. The muscle in his jaw jumped as he stood on quaking legs. Worry etched across his features as his silver eyes peered down at her still sprawled from their lovemaking. 

Without a word, he scooped her into his arms and carried her into her bedroom. Tucking her under the covers, Draco pressed a kiss to her lips. 

“I have to fix this, Hermione. I’m sorry to leave you… This is all my fault.”

“Draco…” He shook his head. 

“Please, for all my love for you, stay here. I won’t let her hurt you. No one will hurt you, Hermione,” he pleaded. 

“Be careful, Draco. I love you,” she responded, still foggy from her orgasms. Magic was thrumming through her and she could see sparks of energy flickering at Draco’s fingertips. It was like they were magically charged like muggle batteries. She hoped it would be enough for him to face his aunt. 


	49. Instant Darkness

Within ten minutes of Draco leaving, Hermione was pacing furiously in her dressing gown. She tugged at her sash, trying to decide whether or not to obey his request for her to stay put. While he’d put them in this mess, in danger, Hermione knew they were stronger together. She assumed his mother would be there as well to talk what little sense she could into Bellatrix. 

A flashback from one of the prophetic dreams assaulted her senses, her own screams echoing in the walls of her skull. Taking a few deep breaths, Hermione occluded her mind. She’d survived multiple encounters with the dark witch, she could survive another. 

Summoning her Gryffindor courage and brandishing her wand, Hermione set out to find her husband, his mother, and his aunt. 

***

“Aunt Bella, to what do I owe this impromptu visit?”

“Don’t be cute with me, nephew,” the crazed witch snarled. His aunt appeared rabid and he could see the concern in his mother’s eyes as they intercepted her at the Underworld’s entrance.

“Bella,” Narcissa said tentatively. “Whatever is the matter?”

“You’re lying about that mudblood bitch. I could smell it during your little stunt. She’s pregnant, isn’t she? That’s what this sham marriage is about!”

Draco’s eyes bulged, but he shook himself from the shock of her words. “No--”

“There’s quite an easy cure, though it seems, my nephew, that you’ve never had the stomach for killing. You had that bumbling fool disarmed and you still couldn’t kill him! Severus had to clean up your mess and now I must do it.”

Bellatrix cackled with glee, her wand held aloft. Draco’s stomach was sinking, unsure of how to handle this.

His mother tried to redirect the situation. “Bella, you and I both saw the prophecy of Persephone. We couldn’t see her at the time, but this Granger girl is Persephone. The only one since the original goddess still walked in the Immortal realm. Killing her would be a grave mistake even though her blood is a problem. Draco won’t have to breed with her, just endure her as his wife for a little while. It’s really of no consequence…”

“No consequence?!” his aunt shrieked. “That filthy whore is polluting the Wizarding and Immortal realms whether she is a flower goddess or not!” 

“What does our most treasured lord have to say about Persephone?” Draco broke in, blood rushing in his ears. 

Dark eyes fixed on him, mouth in a snarl. “He didn’t have to say anything. Did you see how enraged he was in her presence?”

His eyes flickered to his mother. “Bella, has our almighty lord commanded the death of his girl?”

Bellatrix convulsed and Draco was poised to cast a defense charm around his mother and himself if necessary. Once Bellatrix had something to chew on, she chewed until it was destroyed. This was a dangerous game; one his mother had been playing ever since her sister and husband had started following Voldemort. 

“The Dark Lord would commend me for blasting this blight from our world!” his aunt argued petulantly. Draco could see her mental defenses were weakening.

“How do you know it’s what he wants? You wouldn’t go against his wishes unless explicitly known,” Narcissa warned.

Bellatrix was baring her stained and blackened teeth, resembling a feral rat in a cage. Then, suddenly, her lips spread into a maniacal grin.

“_ Expelliarmus! _” his aunt cried and Draco was a second too late to deflect the spell. Yet, his wand, nor his mother's, flew away. 

A vinewood wand soared into her pale hand. He thought he would faint. He didn’t want to turn around. Then, Draco saw something else in his aunt’s hand. 

He didn’t have a chance to look around or identify the object because suddenly, everything went dark. Having used it before, Draco recognized the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. He cursed and tried to clear its dispersal. 

Finally, he saw some hazy light, just long enough to see Bellatrix apparating away with an incarcerated Hermione. He leaped onto the spot they’d disappeared. 

The powder started to clear and his mother was calling his name. He felt numb, standing in the place where his wife had been captured by his murderous aunt. Draco may never see his wife again. 

“Persephone cannot go to the Mortal and Wizarding realm until spring, Draco. She must have taken her somewhere in Olympus or elsewhere in the Immortal realm.”

Draco thought he’d break his teeth as he clenched his jaw. “If she harms my wife, I will kill her, mother.”

Narcissa nodded sadly.

***

Hades searched for Persephone, enlisting Fluffy for help in seeking his wife all over the realm of the gods. He’d tried to convince his mother to stay in the Underworld while he searched, but she needed to rejoin his father at the Death Eater occupied manor. 

Draco questioned lesser gods and goddesses, nymphs and other beings. Thanatos scanned high and low, but the King of the Underworld didn’t trust his thoroughness. Hermione was _ his _and his alone to find. He tried to keep hold of the hope that she was alive. 

It hurt his heart to think that this was all his fault. She could be on the run with Potter and Weasley instead of captured by Bellatrix, but now she was nowhere to be found. He’d done it all to save her from torture and instead, she might be dead. Hermione was the only thing that kept him going.

The days were long and the hours were agony as he gained ground and lost her trail. Soon, Thanatos had warned him that the spring equinox was approaching. It was March in the Mortal Realm, three months after Persephone had been taken. His magic felt useless and Draco felt listless. 

“Drake, listen to me,” Thanatos was saying. “Go home to the palace. Sleep in her bed if you must! Get some real rest and we’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

Without much thought, Draco did as Theo said. He didn’t know what else to do, so why not listen to the idiot? When he appeared in Hermione’s chambers, everything looked as she left it. There were neat stacks of books and parchment all over and yet it was tidy but lived-in. It still smelled like her favorite soaps. 

Sagging into her bed without divesting his traveling clothes, he reveled in her scent. Draco couldn’t be mad at her for leaving her quarters without being more angry at himself. He only took a moment to slip off his shoes and he heard Fluffy’s whimpers outside in the receiving room. 

Before he tried to fall asleep, Draco glanced at the books on her nightstand. Except, it was only one book: a journal. Her magically enhanced journal linked with Potter’s! He sighed after a moment of elation. There was no way for him to read it or even reach out to Potter. Even so, it wasn’t as if the Boy-Who-Lived would have seen her since she couldn’t go back to the Wizarding realm. 

Something small and gold caught his eye before he extinguished the lamp. Next to the journal was a golden snitch. He frowned. Why would his quidditch-hating wife have one of the snitches from his practice pitch?

Curious, Draco picked it up and its wings sprang to life before the center of it opened at his touch. Inside, there was a folded piece of parchment. Taking it out and unfolding it, Draco’s jaw dropped. 

_ Draco, _

_ The password is Lily. _

_ All my love, _

_ Hermione _

He wanted to cry in anguish and happiness at his wife’s ingenuity. Snitches have touch memory. Of course it would open for him! And now, even if she went back after equinox, if Potter could find her, she could contact him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers, I didn't want to completely abandon this chapter this week, so I wrote this all in one sitting late at night. If it makes little sense, I'm sorry! Also, apologies for the time jump -- the timeline is that Hermione was kidnapped right before New Year's Eve and now it's a few days before the spring equinox (March 20th, 1998).


	50. The Cave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've thrown in a character from The Cursed Child, so if you're not familiar with it, I would do a quick google. It's not super important to the plot, though.

Hermione felt weak, perhaps the weakest she’d ever been, magically and physically. Her mind was hazy, but getting clearer for every concerted effort. Her last memory was being apparated by Bellatrix and seeing the blood leave Draco’s face as it happened. 

She was in a cave of some sort, still in the Underworld. As she tried to uncurl herself from her fetal position on the stony ground, her head started to spin as if she’d been drugged. Bellatrix had kidnapped her, so the lengths the dark witch would go to keep her there didn’t surprise her. And also to keep Draco from finding her. 

The moment she’d been disarmed, Hermione had known it had been a mistake to leave her chambers. At the same time, though, Bellatrix could have killed her nephew for his betrayal, if she’d known. That was for later when she didn’t need to figure out how to get back to Draco. 

There was a low source of light in the cave, potentially some bioluminescent substance from the dampness. Hermione could see a pile of objects on the ground yards away, so she crawled over to them. One of the items was the copy of _ The Tales of Beedle the Bard _ and another looked like a pair of leggings. Bellatrix must have emptied her beaded bag she’d had on her. Her wand, unsurprisingly, wasn’t among some of the strewn-about items in the cave. 

Luckily, one of the objects left behind was a muggle lighter. At least it provided a source of light and heat in the absence of her wand. While her brain was calculating and cataloging, she realized how parched she was. Her ears zeroed in on a trickling somewhere deeper in the cave. 

Hermione crept carefully down the tunnel, the dull luminescence growing brighter at the same time that the rest of the cave seemed to swallow her. Something about it harkened back to the myth of Tartarus where Zeus cast the Titans after defeating them. She didn’t know what she’d find here, but it might be less dangerous than Bellatrix Lestrange. 

There was a shallow stream, perhaps an underground offshoot of the River Styx. It looked clear and she was so thirsty. Hermione knelt and took a few sips, the taste a little earthy and salty, but otherwise quenching. Then, the water rippled as if a sound had caused it.

She scrambled back, wiping her mouth. Pebbles started to quiver and chatter on the stone floor, so she retreated back to where she’d woken up. Minutes later, Hermione began to feel drowsy, her eyes closing without her permission. 

A voice was echoing around her. Her mother’s gentle humming of a lullaby reverberating off the walls of her mind. She willed her eyes to struggle open, to see her mother even if it was only a dream… Hermione was still in the cave except she wasn’t alone. And it wasn’t her mother.

Black curls, flowing robes, sallow skin, pointed nose, and… a bundle in her arms. Hermione blinked slowly. It was Bellatrix Lestrange cooing to a baby in her arms. This couldn’t be real. She was hallucinating.

Then, she whispered to the infant as she bounced it, “Delphi, Delphi, Delphini.”

The dark witch turned toward Hermione and it took no effort to close her eyes and succumb to unconsciousness in her attempt to feign sleep. 

Gasping, Hermione woke an undetermined time later. It felt like she’d been shocked awake. Fortunately, Bellatrix wasn’t there. Neither was the baby, Delphi. She still couldn’t be sure that had been real and not a dream. The mad witch must be drugging her and simultaneously keeping her alive. For what purpose? To torture Draco?

Hermione sluggishly regained her wits and tuned into the cave sounds: drip, drip, trickle, drip, drip, drip, silence. The silence became deafening as she tried to remain calm. She didn’t know where she was or how to get out. No wand, no supplies, drugs in her system. How long would she remain awake this time?

What if she couldn’t get out and Draco never found out what happened to her? Wouldn’t Bellatrix want to gloat and hold it over him at some point? Her final words to him had wished him well, and yet she’d done the opposite of what he’d advised. Nails digging into her scalp, Hermione curled in on herself, shaking with grief, fear, and dampness.

Sometime later, she thought she’d passed out again when she heard a familiar voice. It was distant yet unmistakable. Draco. Her heart pounded and she became lightheaded when she stood up. The wave of dizziness passed, but then she thought she might be dreaming. What if it was a trap? A trick of her ears? Madness from the isolation drowning out her sense. 

His voice became louder and then she was scrambling down the tunnel towards it like a beacon. She didn’t care if it wasn’t real; it was the only thing she had to cling to besides the lighter and the wizarding children’s book. Hermione stumbled on the uneven cave floor, broken stalactites, and invasive, large roots. It was slick in spots and rocky in others. She became desperate to see him.

At last, she saw torchlight, a warm glow compared to cool phosphorescence of the cave. Hermione called out for him as his voice carried.

“Draco! Draco! I’m here!” she yelled, her voice hoarse. 

Fluffy was with him, the hound sniffing about. Hermione frowned. Draco hadn’t seemed to hear her. The three-headed dog didn’t seem to either. Neither acknowledged her presence. Her stomach sank.

The love of her life, her husband, stood yards away and couldn’t see or hear her. Fluffy’s one head stopped within a yard of her, his breath scattering stones towards her. The great beast whined but still didn’t see her. Bracing herself, Hermione stepped forward, but a barrier repelled her. 

It must be a similar set of charms to the ones she put up in the camp with Harry and Ron. Of course, Bellatrix knew that kind of magic. Even so, it was probably more repellant than her own, the dark magic reinforcing its strength. Hermione couldn’t help herself, so she watched Draco rant to Fluffy and walk around, casting spells with tears wetting her cheeks.

She must have fallen asleep again while observing Draco because she woke up in a full-body bind, during which Bellatrix was levitating her body to her original place in the cave. Hermione couldn’t scream at her captor during the spell. Once released, she didn’t get more than the word “What” out before Bellatrix hit her with a cruciatus curse.

Similarly in her prophetic dreams, Hermione’s nerves were aflame and frozen at the same time. Her cries echoed in the cave and she blacked out from the pain. 

“Only a few days left, Delphi,” Hermione heard while she was half-conscious. Bellatrix had brought the infant again. “Persephone will return to the mortal realm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a few days off schedule, so I apologize for the delay! Please be patient as it's been a busy time during and after work/weekends. I may need a bit more time to write each chapter as I'm attempting to write one chapter per week. Thanks for your understanding!


	51. Persephone's Curse

Draco scratched out his first few attempts to reach out to Potter. He realized that if the Boy-Who-Lived knew it was him, he wouldn’t believe him at all. Draco had to pretend to be an unknown ally to the Order or else Potter wouldn’t buy anything he said.

Finally, he had what he thought was an appropriate message:

_ Harry Potter, _

_ I am Hermione’s friend and helping her on the side of the Light. She has given me access to this journal. The Death Eaters have taken her, but she may escape and try to find you. _

_ Please tell me if she finds you. I need to know that she’s safe. _

_ ~ A friend _

An answer came within minutes, presumably since Potter hadn’t heard from Hermione in months. 

> ** _Who are you?_ **

Draco’s eyes hurt as he rolled them around at the git’s response. Of course, he wouldn’t ignore the anonymity. 

_ Hermione trusted me with this journal and its password. _

_ I’m trying to find her, but I cannot reveal my identity without putting everyone in danger. _

> ** _How do I know you didn’t torture her for the password?_ **

Draco ground his teeth and pinched the bridge of his nose. He swore Potter could have been at least part Slytherin for how suspicious he was. He racked his brain for how to convince the teen wizard wonder. Something that no one would torture Hermione for.

_ Because I love her. _

_ And she told me she accidentally turned herself into a cat with Polyjuice potion in second year at Hogwarts. _

Potter’s response to that took longer. It felt like an eternity. He munched irritably on a biscuit and the crumbs nearly dropped from his mouth as more words appeared.

> ** _I don’t trust you, but if Hermione does, then I will let you know if we find her. _ **

_ Thank you. I hope she is safe with you soon. _

Draco breathed out a sigh of relief. He never thought he’d be indebted to Potter. What he needed now was a plan to see if he could intercept Hermione’s journey to the mortal realm tomorrow. With a flourish, he sent a summons to Thanatos.

***

Hermione was barely lucid as she felt someone carrying her. Her stomach swooped with the hopes that Draco had found her. A blurry, dark face floated above her. It wasn’t Draco. 

She cringed at the sound of Bellatrix’s voice, “Zabini, bring her to the Manor. And don’t let Hades see you.”

Hermione wanted to protest, but she could barely keep her eyes open let alone speak. She struggled against fatigue and the haziness of her senses. The cruciatus curse still crackled occasionally through her nerves, but it did nothing to ease her lethargy.

She heard Bellatrix disappear with an echoing crack that made her flinch. Blaise didn’t say anything as he carried her. Hermes stealthily slipped through the Underworld with Persephone.

Hermione startled awake, forgetting that she was supposed to be trying to be conscious. A small gasp left her at the sight of the gate above them. The gate opened for her. It was time for Persephone to leave the Underworld. It was spring. 

Hermione struggled against Blaise as he stepped through the iron gates. She was weak and could barely wriggle in his arms. Her throat was raw and nothing came out when she tried to scream. Blaise held her tighter.

A second later, a grunt escaped the tall Hermes and she fell out of his arms with a thud onto the bank of the River Styx. 

“_ Petrificus Totalus _,” she heard Thanatos bellow. 

Hermione forced her eyes open to see Theo running toward her and Blaise on the ground immobilized. When the sarcastic wizard reached her, she could see the relief and worry warring in his eyes.

“D-Draco,” she rasped. Theo shoved a wand into her hands. It was Blaise’s, most likely. Hers was still with Bellatrix. 

Theo looked around before returning his attention to her. “I have to take you back…”

Seeing the haggard Hades stop in his tracks forced the air from her lungs. His usually attentive silver eyes were haunted and shrouded in shadow. He’d been searching for months and Draco looked as though he was seeing her shade instead of her live form. 

Hermione felt the magic of Persephone’s curse pulling her out of the Underworld, back towards the mortal realm. It felt like there was a weight as she tried to run to Draco. She was panting, grunting, gasping as she tried to make it the ten yards to and through the gate. 

Once again, an invisible force prevented her from going to him. Draco shook himself out of his stupor, blinking rapidly as he tried to meet her. Theo held out a hand to stop him, placing himself between the pair of lovers. She could see the tears falling down his pale, stricken face as he fumbled for something inside his robes.

He handed something, a book, to Theo and gave her a watery smile. “I love you,” Draco called to her. Hermione’s heart skipped a beat. It both gutted and warmed her to hear his voice that she wouldn’t hear again, not for a while.

“I love you,” Hermione rasped out, her vocal cords protesting. “I’m sorry!” she added.

Draco shook his head as if to say, ‘Don’t be.’ But she was sorry. If she’d listened to him, Hermione wouldn’t have been captured, at least not in that moment. They would have had more time together.

Her cheeks were wet as Thanatos led her back out to the river. Purposefully, he blocked Draco from her view -- for hers or Draco’s or both of their sanities -- as he whisked her back to the mortal realm. 

They appeared in a wood, unrecognizable from any other wooded area she’d seen. Hermione sank down on the ground, her knees betraying her weakness. Theo tried to haul her back up, but she was limp in his arms, dragged down by the gravity of the past few months. He was asking her a question, but all she could focus on was the last image of Draco she had.

After an eternity, Hermione finally registered his question. “Where do you want to go?”

The first place that came to mind was wherever Harry and Ron were now. That posed a danger to them, though. The Death Eaters would be out looking for her after Blaise didn’t show up at the Manor with Persephone. What if they followed her and Theo? She couldn’t go to the Order either. 

The only possessions she had now were Blaise’s wand, a lighter, and Beedle the Bard’s book. She examined the book again, tracing the symbol that had been stumping her. Hermione could swear she’d seen it before. Before… Before she, Harry, and Ron had gone on the Horcrux hunt. Someone had been wearing it at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. It hadn’t been a Weasley, she knew that much. 

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to imagine the face. Perhaps the witch or wizard knew something about this symbol. An exasperated sigh disrupted her concentration.

“Shut up, Theo! Let me think.” 

The hair was forming in her mind. It was a taller wizard, that was for sure. He’d been wearing a rather strange hat… Light hair, but frazzled. 

“Xenophilius Lovegood!” she said. Thanatos looked concerned at her outburst. 

Hermione set her mouth in determination. “Take me to him, please.” 

Theo nodded absently. “Before we go, Draco gave me this for you.”

He handed her the book she’d seen. It was the twin to the journal she’d given to him for Christmas. She smiled in delight. Hermione now had a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m predicting that this very long fic -- the longest I’ve ever written -- will end at Chapter 60, but we’ll see! Thanks for sticking with me through this journey through the Underworld.


	52. In the Forest of the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is inspired by one of my favorite childhood books, "In the Forests of the Night" by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes, whose title was inspired by a line of "The Tyger" by William Blake. If you haven't heard of either, I highly recommend reading both. Now, I'll let you get to the chapter!

Draco nearly crumpled to the ground after Thanatos disappeared with Hermione. His knees felt like jelly and his magic reached out for hers only for it to be out of reach. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zabini twitch on the ground. 

He kept Hermes bound as he renervated him. Blaise sputtered with a grimace, trying to wriggle out of the magical bonds. Draco sneered at him.

“Working for my aunt, are you? Picking sides, then, Zabini?” 

Hermes spat at him, but Draco dodged the globe before levitating the wizard. “You’re going to show me where my aunt was keeping Hermione hidden.” 

“Like Hell I will!”

Draco smirked. “You don’t have a choice. You’re now in my own personal Hell.” He upped the ante by zapping Hermes with a jinx who hissed upon receiving it.

“I have all the time in the world,” Hades drawled as he walked towards the center of the Underworld. “You’re lucky I don’t plan on killing you.”

“You’re going soft, Malfoy,” Blaise growled.

A sardonic laugh escaped him as he responded with, “Oh, my Slytherin friend, I have even more to lose now than I ever did. If anything, I’m more dangerous.”

***

Hermione hastily scribbled her note in the journal to Draco with Theo’s quill:

_ I didn’t want to leave you… I miss you. _

_ Can you please send a message to Harry to meet me at the Castle-Rock in Ottery St. Catchpole? Please copy that word-for-word. _

The sun was setting behind the Lovegood’s house, the sky a vibrant red. She forgot how breathtaking the sky was in her time in the Underworld and especially her capture by Bellatrix. Theo joined her in staring at the vista beyond the forest without saying anything. He was quieter than she was used to him being.

“I’ll set up camp until Harry and Ron join me. They should be here when we consult with Xenophilius.”

She saw Thanatos purse his lips. “You trust him?”

“As much as anyone,” she said absently as she put wards up around them.

“It’s still too cold to camp in the open.”

“Can I borrow your sweater, Theo?” He looked affronted but handed it over.

With some transfiguration, she had a tent big enough for her to sleep in. Theo shook his head. She smiled widely at him. 

“Would you like my trousers too?” he joked. “What would you make with them?”

She bit at her lip, thinking of Draco. Hermione didn’t want to be without him and definitely didn’t want to be alone tonight. Her stomach burbled loudly. Theo noticed.

“Hold on.”

Before she could say anything, Theo had disappeared. Hermione sighed and resigned herself to forage around her campsite. She’d become quite adept at finding food, no matter how meager, during their Horcrux hunt. 

Some undetermined amount of time later, she heard a crack near her transfigured tent. Thanatos had reappeared with something. She had found some herbs, but nothing of substance, so she approached her tent once more.

He had an entire sack of food as if he’d robbed a convenient store. Hermione looked at him suspiciously. Theo rolled his eyes.

“Granger, I paid for it.”

She took it with a clipped “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. She nodded sadly as her heart clenched.

She started rummaging in the bag of food as he turned away, running his hand through his sandy hair. Theo turned back quickly.

“Do you want me to stay with you? I’ll take the first watch in case of Snatchers.”

“It’s fine, Theo. Taking me here was enough. Thank you.”

He hesitated before apparating away. She started humming softly and heating up a can of beans over her magically-cast fire. Blaise’s wand wasn’t a great match for her, but she was able to cast decently with it.

Her mind was becoming clearer and clearer without whatever potions Bellatrix had given her. She knew that Harry and Ron wouldn’t arrive until late tomorrow morning even if they received the message tonight. It might have been a risk to summon them there, but hopefully, she would know by the time they came if she’d been followed. 

After all her studying in the Underworld, she had enhanced the wards she’d been using before she became Persephone. Hermione knew it was dangerous to be alone, but she had been for some time despite the drugging effects of the substance or potion Bellatrix had been dosing her with. Now, she waited for sleep to claim her.

***

Hermione startled out of sleep by someone or something tripping her complex warding system. She reset the wards quickly and then cast a repelling charm. All she could feel was her heart thundering in the cage of her chest as she waited to see if the intruder would leave or continue trying to break her wards.

She sighed as the wards tripped again. Her intruder was a witch or wizard -- that was clear. Before she could even crawl out of the tent to confront them, a silvery Patronus bounded through the closed tent entrance. A wolf. 

Hermione gasped as the corporeal spell barked and wagged its tail happily at her. Then, her husband’s voice greeted her: “Hermione. I’m here for you. Please, I need to see you.”

She launched herself out of the tent and through her wards. Hermione grabbed his hands and dragged him into the protective shield of enchantments. He nearly toppled her over in the force of him stumbling with her and his desperation to touch her.

***

Draco felt like he could both breathe again and breathless as he finally had Hermione back in his arms. First, he wrapped himself like a cocoon around her, cradling her body into his larger one. She held him like a lifeline and he felt her clutching him and sobbing -- he wasn’t sure if it was relief or the emotions of their separation catching up to her. Either way, he held her as close as he could. 

Once she’d stopped shaking with the force of her crying, he pulled back enough to look at her face. Her eyes were puffy, but it didn’t make her any less of a sight to behold. She was thinner than she’d been in his care -- she’d been a more unwilling prisoner under his aunt’s supervision, after all. His heart ached for her, that he hadn’t been able to find her. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, barely audible even in the stillness of the forest. She tried to shake her head to argue, but his hands were guiding her lips to his. 

Relief washed over him as she kissed him passionately and he met with even more furious desire. His love, his wife, his Persephone still loved him, wanted him! Perhaps, time had healed some of their wounds and things they had taken for granted. He couldn’t hope to be completely forgiven for his transgressions, but he wanted Hermione to know that he would do anything for her.

Her hands tangled in his hair, the feel of it after so many months made him moan into her mouth. She nipped at his bottom lip, pressing her small form into his. Draco knew she could feel his arousal as perfectly as he could feel the softness of her breasts against his chest.

“We don’t have to do anything, I just wanted to see you, make sure you were… okay… Not okay, but I needed to see you again. I thought I would go insane... 

“Let me sleep beside you tonight, keep you warm… Your friends should be here tomorrow. Let me have tonight,” he whispered, tripping over his words as he pressed feathery kisses to each part of Hermione’s face and upper body that he could reach. 

“Please, Draco…” she panted. He trembled as her hands slid under his shirt, her cool, soft skin a contrast to his. 

He gestured for her to lead the way into the tent after he cast a quick spell to make it larger on the inside. She gave him a small, weary smile, but her eyes were bright in the dusk light. Draco felt himself harden further, his dick pressing painfully against the button of his trousers as he watched her swaying hips and arse crawling into the tent.

Taking a second to calm himself first -- he wasn’t entirely sure what Hermione would want from him no matter her begging -- Draco followed her into the tent. She’d cast a dim _Lumos_ and was holding the blanket up for him to join her. He shucked his trousers but left his underwear on.

His hands automatically reached for her waist and that was when he discovered she was completely naked. He groaned as his hand skated up the ladder of her ribs -- the rungs more pronounced now -- his thumb brushed the underside of her breast. It was like silk. 

“I need you too, Draco. I missed you too and I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t--” He stopped her with a kiss that was slow and penetrative, his tongue twisting around hers. 

Hermione writhed against him, her hands under his shirt again. He sat up to throw it over his head, but then her hands were pulling down his pants, over his straining erection. Finally, he was as bare as she was and she rewarded him unnecessarily for it by stroking his length in her small hand. 

Draco couldn’t help but buck his hips into her hand. She kissed up his chest, licking at his distended Adam’s apple as his head was thrown back in pleasure. It seemed unreal to him after all this time. And then, her hot wet mouth engulfed him, tongue flicking insistently. He gripped the blanket as she brought him swiftly over the edge, spilling into her mouth. His growl of her name hung heavy in the still air.

Opening his eyes, Draco saw her swallow his seed, his love, his heart as her throat bobbed. Quicker than he’d thought possible, he regained control and eased her onto her back, throwing her legs over his shoulders. Draco kissed and nipped the insides of her thighs as Hermione squirmed at his passionate attention. 

He heard her begging him. Licking the crease of her inner thigh had her shaking, her labia opening for him like a budding flower. Her scent drew him in like an oasis in the desert. He took his first sip from her nectar and moaned… or was it her moan? He would ravage her all night if this was all he had. One night with Persephone in paradise.


	53. Chapter 53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out to be almost purely smut... Hopefully, you enjoy it! And the little cliffy at the end.

Hermione cried out as Draco swiftly brought her to orgasm with his mouth, her arousal running down her thighs. She could feel him lapping eagerly at her juices as she came down from her high, cleaning her up, savoring her essence. Delightfully boneless, she tugged his head up, white-blonde hair sticking out at all angles. 

She couldn’t even be bothered by his self-satisfied smirk as he crawled over her. Hermione hummed at the feeling of his newly burgeoning arousal against her thigh and widened her legs to accommodate his frame. It felt so right -- being together. If anyone had asked her a year ago if she felt “right” with Draco Malfoy, she would have checked them for a  _ confundus _ charm.

Hermione smiled and gazed into his silver eyes. Though it seemed cliche, the best way to describe being with him was it felt like coming home. 

He slotted the slick head of his cock in her swollen folds, slowly entering her, her body accepting him, stretching to allow him within. The sensation of fullness, the depth of relief in his darkened gray eyes, the heat of his skin enveloping hers, it was all too much for her to bear. It would be over once the sun rose. 

She quivered at his hands skimming from her thighs to the curve of her hips and arse, and up the dip of her waist, which met the ladder of her ribs and the sensitive undersides of her breasts. Then, he was cradling her face in his large hands, thumbs brushing her cheekbones as if he could erase the months apart. 

Hermione tried to mark every feeling from his angled features, glinting eyes, and pale skin to the sounds of his breathing when it would hitch as he explored her depths, and the scent of his musky, woodsy cologne combined with a rich aroma all  _ Draco _ . All of those sensations took the backseat to the pleasure of his desire surging in and out of her.

She wanted to ignore the way he stoked her orgasm like building a campfire. The kindling was that slow insurgence, the adjustment of her body to his welcome intrusion. When he lifted one of her legs to press her knee to her chest, the small spark caused the first flame. He groaned as she clenched him. The thick slide of him -- in and out -- fanned the flames, coaxing them higher and higher…

Hermione had lifted her hips, pulling him deeper, his thrusts picking up pace. She couldn’t keep her eyes open and her mouth didn’t form coherent words any longer as the white light burst behind her eyelids. Her body pulled taught as she shattered around him as he fucked her through her orgasm, spurring sparks of smaller shocks of delight.

Draco slowed his pace, her body liquid beneath his. He hadn’t cum yet, she thought idly. And she wasn’t finished with him yet. Hermione needed more of him, but didn’t know how to ask for it.

Suddenly, she felt shy. And yet, she was Hermione Granger. “Draco,” she said. He stilled inside her, cock twitching in protest. “Take me how you want to. Claim me as yours.”

While she didn’t know what this request, or rather encouragement, would yield, Hermione knew he’d never do anything to hurt her purposefully. Draco wasn’t the same since before the war began. 

She gasped as he pulled out, but the fire in his eyes made her stomach flip-flop. His cock was shining with her arousal in the dim light. Hermione bit her lip.

“Turn over, love. On your stomach.”

The tone of his voice, rough and deep, made her clench around nothing. Her muscles protested her movement, but she lay on her stomach with her cheek against the pillow. She absently heard him whisper a spell and then he lifted her hips slightly to put something soft beneath them. He’d propped her hips up with a pillow, she surmised, which only served to increase her anticipation. After their initial consummation, he’d taken her roughly from behind, which she’d enjoyed, but this seemed different, more intimate and deliberate.

He gently nudged her thighs apart and settled between them. His cock easily slid into her wet pussy, but the angle felt different, deeper. It was as if he was diving straight into her. Draco didn’t move, his breath fanning gooseflesh at the nape of her neck. 

She squirmed at how full she felt. His hips pressed her down into the makeshift mattress and she squeezed him instinctually. Hermione felt his moan before she heard it as his head dropped into the space between her shoulder blades.

“Do you like how full you feel with my cock buried inside you?” he panted into her spine. 

She whimpered into the pillow, hips shifting as much as she could with his weight pressing down. Surprisingly, his weight on top of her felt more arousing than suffocating. She craved it. 

“Do you feel how deep I am?” She groaned because it made her focus on how truly deep he was. 

“Please, Draco,” she said, praying for him to move. 

He kissed her shoulder. “I’m not going to fuck you like this. I want you to feel every inch of my cock filling you up and leaving you wanting as I pull in and out until you can’t stand the feeling of being empty.”

Her nails clutched the pillow as she longed for his words to come to fruition. His first measured retreat drove her mad until she felt the belled head of his cock kissing her labia, her pussy trying to prevent his escape. Hermione’s body keened as he plunged back in. She felt his cock hit her cervix and she lifted her hips further, tilting more. 

Hermione gasped, her hand stealing beneath her to rest on her lower abdomen. Her pussy fluttered around him as she felt his cock from the outside of her body. She heard him hiss as her cunt attempted to keep him from leaving, massaging him. 

“Fuck…” He didn’t pull all the way out this time before surging back in. “Do you know how fucking brilliant you feel? How wet you are for me? How you were made to take my cock?”

She couldn’t blame him for not delivering on his plan because she too was lost in the chase of her own pleasure. His cock entered her faster and faster until his hips slapped against her arse cheeks and she’d closed the gap of her legs beneath him. Draco was driving her mad nonetheless. 

“Hermione... “ he growled. “So perfect. Can’t hold on…” 

He didn’t need to. As he drove home, as deep as he could, Hermione came hard around him. Draco spurted inside her womb, hot jets making her orgasm continue as his hips stuttered. He collapsed on top of her, his cock unrelentingly hard and still buried in his quim. That’s where she wanted him, anyway.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he whispered into her sweaty skin. 

***

Draco was watching the sunrise through the walls of the tent with Hermione snoring softly next to him. She’d passed out after a quick cleansing and contraceptive charm and Draco simply relished having her in his arms.

His mind wouldn’t shut off at the possibilities. He wasn’t fully convinced that being captured by Bellatrix had been the worst thing compared to what she and her friends would face next. The prophetic dream that had set all of these events into motion could still happen.

His heart ached as he thought of leaving her. They could write to one another, but he knew it wasn’t safe for him to be near her in the wizarding world, not with Death Eaters keeping tabs on him. Plus, who knew the consequences he would face even without her?

His loud sigh must have woken his wife. She stirred with a hummed “Mmmmm…” 

“We probably don’t have time for more snuggling, do we?” Draco asked sleepily.

Hermione snorted. “Is that what you’re calling sex now?”

He smirked, but his hand reached for her breast, palming it teasingly. “Snuggling is innocent,” he clarified even though he was getting handsier by the second.

“Not the way you do it,” she teased. His stubbled grazed her neck, which he could feel triggering a frisson of desire in her. It was a sensitive spot for her.

“My way is more fun, but I should go.”

He said it with finality and sadness. Draco wished she would beg him to stay. He saw unbidden tears gathering in her eyes. 

“None of that, love,” he admonished lightly, even though his tone of voice told of his own reluctance. “Your Gryffindors will be here soon. You’ve no use for the King of the Underworld or Slytherin Prince now.

“Draco--” 

In his romantic, infuriating way, he kissed her to shut her up and to throw her train of thought for a loop. Draco thoroughly snogged her and won the almost-argument. 

He dressed himself meticulously as Hermione also readied herself for the arrival of her best friends. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw him toying with her wedding band, but he was surprised when she didn’t remove it. Potter and Weasley were never the brightest nor the most observant.

Draco surveyed the campsite in the dewy morning, waiting for it to be the right time to leave… which it never seemed like it would be.

“I’ll make us breakfast,” she announced. 

“Hermione, I don’t think---” 

Her pleading look shut him up. Even so, he took the journal out of his pocket and whispered ‘Lily.’ When he saw Potter’s response, his brow furrowed and then took out his pocket watch. Draco swore.

“No time for breakfast, love. They’ll be here any moment,” He frowned at the imminence and immediacy of his departure.

Draco took her into his arms and held her close. He kissed her forehead and then her lips. He tried to pull away even though his soul might shatter, but she held his face to hers for a longer, more exploratory snog. It didn’t matter that her friends were coming. It felt like she wanted to claim him too.

“M-Malfoy?” a startled voice behind them said. 

Draco nearly bit her lip in order to disengage from their heavy petting. There was no use denying what Potter and Weasley had seen. He tried not to blush at being caught and made to storm away to apparate. Hermione caught his hand before he could pop off.

He was panicked and confused as she held her ground and kept him there. Hermione smiled broadly at her friends whose expressions mirrored Draco’s.

“Harry, Ron, meet your mysterious penpal of late, Draco Malfoy.” The breath rushed from his lungs.


	54. Deathly Hallows

Hermione had done it. The giant secret from the past nine months was out in the open. To say her friends were bewildered was an understatement. Ron’s jaw had dropped, mouth gaping, cheeks burning red. Harry’s face had scrunched up in confusion, mouth tight, and eyes squinting behind his glasses.

“Y-you’ve been w-with h-him! Th-the entire t-time?!” Ron stuttered out, spit flying. 

Harry seemed to shake himself. “Not the whole time, Ron.” His green eyes darted between her and Draco. 

“You left  _ us _ for  _ him _ ? Hermione!” Ron yelled, ignoring his friend’s clarification.

She tried to explain, “That’s not quite what happened--”

“Don’t, Ron,” Harry growled. “You left too, by choice. I’ve forgiven you, but you cannot blame Hermione for leaving.” 

The ginger’s jaw snapped shut with a clatter. His face was still fiery, though. Hermione knew Harry would give her a fighting chance to defend herself. 

“It’s a long story, Harry… I didn’t  _ want _ to leave you both. I didn’t have a choice -- you could say it’s like an unbreakable vow.”

Ron grimaced. “How could you make a vow with  _ him _ ?” 

She bit her lip. “It wasn’t really with him, more like with an ancient power. I didn’t know what I’d done, but I was bound to return to Draco’s side. And I know this sounds unbelievable, but I fell in love with him. He’s not who we thought he was.”

Draco’s hand was squeezing hers and she looked up at him. He was thanking her for being brave. 

“He’s bloody cursed you! Hermione, you’re mad--”

“Ronald Weasley!” Hermione screeched. “You may check me for curses and hexes and love potions, but I am not mad!”

She was still so busy fuming at Ron that she nearly didn’t hear what Harry had said.

“Why should we trust him?” 

Draco squeezed her hand again. Clearly, he’d said enough to convince Harry to write to him.

“Because I trust him. He has done his best to protect me with all he has. Bellatrix Lestrange kidnapped me, which is why Draco had to contact you.”

***

The Duncely Duo’s concern was comical after Hermione’s statement to Draco’s annoyance. She’d said it so matter-of-factly as if it had been more than 24 hours since she’d escaped his aunt’s clutches. Her hand was warm in his, confident now.

“Malfoy let that crazy witch kidnap you?!” Ron exclaimed. 

Draco opened his mouth to argue, but Hermione cut him off. “He didn’t  _ let _ her do anything, Ronald. How dare you suggest that and how dare you doubt my own autonomy!”

He’d been on the receiving end of a fuming, self-righteous Hermione and slightly sympathized with the Weasel. Draco attempted to keep from smirking even so. His spitfire witch was quite arousing when her face was flushed and her hair crackling with magical indignation as she verbally reamed Weasley. 

“We’re glad you’re okay, Hermione,” Potter said once Weasley was thoroughly cowed.

“Thanks, Harry. I’m glad you’re both okay too. I’m sorry for having to leave, but I’m glad we’re together now,” Hermione said earnestly.

That made Draco’s stomach sink. He should leave them anyway because his presence was a risk with the Death Eaters looming. His heart hurt to leave her side after all this time. 

As his usual bashful, blundering self, Weasley was looking around their campsite. “Why are we near the Lovegood’s house, Hermione?”

Feeling like he shouldn’t be privy to more information for their security, Draco painfully dropped his wife’s hand. Her head whipped up to look at him before she could answer her friend. Her large tawny eyes questioned him and he frowned.

“I should go,” he murmured. Hermione pursed her lips as if she was thinking about arguing. 

She turned back to her friends to say, “You two go freshen up, I’m sure you haven’t washed in a week,” she said scoldingly. “There’s clean water on the other side of the tent.”

They were alone, more or less once again. He could hear the Gryffindors griping and rustling on the other side of the tent still. 

“I don’t want you to go… but I know it’s probably for the best,” she said and bit her bottom lip. 

Draco gently took her chin in his hand and tilted her head up to his. “Nowhere is best when I’m without you…” He flushed. “Th-that came out cheesier than I--”

The crafty witch took a page from his book and brought her mouth to his, sneaking her tongue in to tangle with his as she silenced the words he was screwing up. Her small, curvy form was pressed against him, warm in the cool air of the clearing. All his blood was steadily rushing south as Hermione’s small moans into his mouth reached his ears.

She pulled away breathless and blushing. “I love you, Draco Malfoy.”

His heart skipped several beats. He could hear those words a thousand times from her mouth and he would scarcely believe his luck. 

“I love you too, Hermione Granger.” 

She tucked her head into his chest as his arms came around her, hands weaving into her hair. Draco felt her fingers tightening into the fabric of his coat. 

“Promise to write to me?” she asked, voice muffled.

“Of course. I would ask you to promise to not let those friends of yours talk you into doing anything stupid, but I don’t think you could keep it,” he smirked lightly.

Hermione disengaged from him to slap him on the chest. “Draco!” she hissed. 

“You didn’t argue…” he teased and she tried to hit him again, but he caught her hand in his.

Before Draco could change his mind, he bowed to her and placed a lingering kiss on her knuckles. Her eyes were wide and he winked at her before straightening and disapparating back to the Underworld. 

“Where have you been, my son?” a sneering voice greeted him in his office. 

Draco didn’t need to turn around to know that it was his father.

***

“Are you going to tell us what we’re doing here, ‘Mione?” Ron asked as the three of them settled down for tea around the fire. At least Theo had the sense to include it in his gift basket and Hermione hadn’t had to resort to acorn tea.  _ Yuck. _

She nodded and blew on the steaming cuppa. “Do you remember that symbol in the book that Dumbledore gifted me?” 

Hermione drew the strange figure in the dirt: the vertical line, the circle over it, and then the triangle around it all. 

“It’s not a rune I could find in my research. Not even some of the oldest texts identified it. But I remember seeing it elsewhere. Mr. Lovegood was wearing it on a necklace to Bill and Fleur’s wedding. I figured that he must know what it means.”

“By research, you meant--”

“I meant  _ research _ , Ronald. Do not question me on this,” Hermione said a little too scathingly. 

“I’ve seen it,” Harry said quietly, his green eyes meeting hers.

Her body feels lighter at Harry’s comment. “Where?”

“The gravestones at Godric’s Hollow. Very old graves, too.”

Hermione absorbs this information. “We can ask Mr. Lovegood about those too. Let’s pack up, boys!”

While she’d enjoyed her time with Draco in the Underworld, Hermione realized that she’d felt frustrated and purposeless even with the ancient library because she’d wanted to help win the war. And now, she could do it. 

_ 24 Hours Later _

Hermione felt the blood rush from her face. Harry had slipped. He’d broken the taboo. 

No matter Mr. Lovegood’s insight about the Deathly Hallows and betrayal or their daring escape that Hermione had orchestrated in order to lessen the damage on the Lovegoods by showing them that Harry had been there, it was over in the time it took to pronounce those three deadly syllables.

She heard the apparition outside their wards. Snatchers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, I know I skipped over the scenes with Xenophilius Lovegood, but I imagined it all happening exactly as it does in the book. I would like to finish this fic up in 6 chapters, so we might have more time jumps too! I'm not going to re-write canon scenes going forward for the sake of time -- and the fact that I can't write as well as J.K. Rowling -- so I hope that doesn't hinder your reading!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me! <3


	55. Reckoning

Draco thought his knuckles might burst through the skin on his fists. His teeth probably cracked from the pressure of his jaw. A second later, he turned around, his demeanor composed and detached. 

His father looked regal -- not a hair or thread out of place -- yet his eyes were manic. Lucius looked like he smelled a secret. And yet, Draco’s secret was out in the open. 

“Have you been waiting long?” Hades waved his hand and deflected, pouring two tumblers of Ogden’s best. 

He could nearly feel his father’s sneer. “Your mother said you didn’t return last night.”

“I had business in the wizarding world.”

His father’s expression didn’t change. “You went to her, didn’t you?”

“I had business with Severus,” Draco stated and took a sip of whiskey. 

Lucius looked amused, but his eyes hardened. “You should be taking your duties to the Dark Lord more seriously than these…” His hand waved flippantly around Hades’ office.

“I’m not the only one of his followers whom He’s turned a blind eye on, Father.” Lucius’ whiskey sloshed as the wizard’s hand shook in indignation. “Not you, Bellatrix.”

“She’s always been rather mad and with your mother cowering in Hell, she seems to have gone awry with her own devices,” his father said shrewdly.

“She has been keeping secrets from everyone. More than one, I’m sure,” Draco postulated. 

His father’s lip curled. “If this is about your mudblood--”

“It’s about _ Persephone _, yes.”

His father was unperturbed. “I’m sure she’ll lead us to Potter. It’s only a matter of time.” 

Draco grimaced. With Hermione reunited with her friends, he hoped she’d keep them in check and under the radar. He didn’t even want to think about her with his father’s eyes boring into him. He had to keep his mental shields up.

“The Dark Lord commands your presence at the Manor for the time being. Your mother is required as well. Indefinitely,” his father finished. 

Lucius set down the tumbler, still full, and stood. “No need to walk me out. I shall see you at the Manor soon enough.”

_ Fuck. _

“Oh, and Draco, that journal of yours is quite a remarkable magical artifact,” the wizard said with a raised pale eyebrow. 

He waited for his father to leave before he pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned in frustration. 

***

Packing for moving back into the Manor took much longer than expected. Really, it took him no time to magically send clothing to his wardrobe; however, he wanted something of Hermione’s to take with him. The elves hadn’t done her laundry since she’d been kidnapped and her scent still lingered on the clothing. 

Draco took his time sorting through them and found a luxurious cashmere sweater that smelled like her own unique perfume of bath scents and skin. Then, with her scent surrounding him, he updated the journal to his new whereabouts. When Draco had read Hermione’s brief message about that scoundrel Xenophilius Lovegood betraying them, he’d nearly gone in search of the wizard to torture him. 

Of course, Hermione had talked him down from it. She was ever so understanding and empathetic -- of course, Mr. Lovegood was only trying to get his daughter back! Draco wanted her to be safe, for the war to end soon with the Gryffindor trio’s reunion. 

Thinking back to earlier, the fact that his father had attempted to access the journal was unsurprising; however, he shouldn’t have left it lying out where someone could happen upon it. Draco locked it in his bureau drawer at the Manor with a set of wards only he could open. It was his only connection with Hermione. 

That night, his first night back in the Manor since taking his role as Hades, Draco had stuffed a pillow in Hermione’s jumper he’d taken and slept basking in her aroma. The nightmares seemed to be at bay as the shadows in his home surrounded him. 

_ They were in Diagon Alley in the summertime. The sunshine reflected in the shops’ front windows and everything was restored to how it had looked a few years ago. Hermione’s brown curls bounced a few meters in front of him, her hips swaying in her jean shorts. Why had he never noticed the appeal of Muggle clothing before her? He watched her for a moment, the sun highlighting strands of gold and bronze in her curls. _

_ Then, he caught up to her, arms hooking around her waist to surprise her. Draco had wanted to hear her giggle and laugh at the surprise of it. She was struggling against him, fighting him. Her husband. He let her go as she turned in a huff, glaring at him. _

_ “Oh, it’s you,” she said. At first, he thought it was remorse in her voice. Yet, then she looked around as if to see if anyone had seen their encounter. None of the other shoppers seemed to have noticed. “I nearly hexed your balls off, Malfoy.” _

_ “I-I’m--” _

_ Before he could apologize, Hermione cut him off with an apologetic, yet perplexed gaze. “I told you, we can’t do this anymore. I’m not Persephone, you’re not Hades. It’s over.” _

_Her ring finger was bare. The cobblestones beneath his feet replaced the sunny sky above as the world heaved around him. _

Draco had woken in a sweaty panic after that nightmare. So much for only good dreams about his wife. How could he think that even if they won the war and survived that Hermione, the muggle-born witch who helped Potter defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named for good, would want to be with him after their Immortal Realm bond was over? Would it be worth it to survive only to lose her love?

An hour later, straightening his shirt cuffs, Draco mentally prepared for his audience with the Dark Lord, out in the field, in Austria of all places. Apparently, Voldemort was out of the Manor with his Death Eater commanders and had been for a few days, according to the house elves. The validity of his father’s message about their Lord’s command seemed to be breaking down by the minute. 

He conjured the dreaded mask and let out a sigh. Draco wished he could have done more to help his wife and her friends. At this point, they were the wizarding world’s only hope of taking down the evil mad man who’d come back from the dead. Even if that meant that Hermione would never speak to him again. 

“Draco!” his mother’s voice pierced through his thoughts. He’d been about to descend the main staircase when she’d appeared below him, frantic. “Come quickly. Snatchers are here.”

He took the stairs three at a time, bounding down there and past his mother. The “what-if” scenarios plagued him as he ran to the main entrance. Draco stopped dead in his tracks at his father’s rigid form before him.

Greyback and two other Snatchers had three people young enough to be students his age. His heart rammed against his rib cage. Two boys and a girl; ginger, dark hair, and curly brown. 

“Don’t this look like that mudblood our Lord has been after? The one helping Potter?” Greyback snarled, shoving the girl forward but keeping his bruising grip on her arm. 

Lucius studied her and Draco was reeling. He felt like someone has confunded him. It’s all too similar to his premonition of Hermione. 

“This is a Weasley, too,” one of the other Snatchers claimed. “But ugly here… could be Potter with his face all swollen?” 

Draco knew it was Hermione. She wasn’t looking at him, smartly enough. And it was most certainly Potter and Weasley, then.

_ Triple fuck. _

He squinted at Potter’s bee-stung face. Most likely Hermione’s spellwork. “I’m not sure,” he said.

Lucius turned toward Draco and arched a brow. “We must be sure, Draco. To call him away from his… work.” 

His mother took his hand. It was reassuring, but not enough. The vision he’d tried to stop was coming true. All that needed to happen was….

Heels click-clacked on the marble floor toward them. Draco didn’t need to turn to see who it was. His stomach lurched as he saw Hermione freeze in Greyback’s grip. He never wanted this to happen, not in real life. Tears started to prick at his eyes.

“Is it him, Draco? And isn’t that your mudblood?” Bellatrix said gleefully. 

He didn’t answer, didn’t need to. There was nothing he could do now that his aunt had picked up the scent. 

She challenged his father. “Let’s call him, then. Lucius?”

“We don’t---” the Malfoy patriarch started to argue. Bellatrix shrieked, cutting him off and making Draco cringe.

“They had this? How?” Bellatrix strode over and forced the sword from the Snatcher’s hands. “It was in my vault! You slimy brats!”

They were doomed. Draco should just kill them all except for Potter, so they didn’t have to witness this nightmare-come-true. 

“Throw those two in the dungeon. The mudblood is coming with me,” Bellatrix demanded. 

Draco was rooted to the spot. He didn’t know what to do. Was there any way out of this that didn’t end up killing them all or Hermione being tortured?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to show Draco's side of these events, so hopefully, even with my plot modifications, it seems believable. Sorry for the cliffy! If I wrote any more, I'd have 2 chapters in one. I hope to have this finished by New Years if I can keep up on my posting schedule.
> 
> If any of my readers are fellow Americans, I wish you a Happy and Healthy Thanksgiving! (gobble, gobble)


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for magical torture.

Hermione may have left Hell, but she was now living the nightmare that she and Draco had been trying to avoid. Even being kidnapped by Bellatrix paled in comparison to this decimating moment. Had this nightmare been unavoidable all along?

Bellatrix’s strength surprised Hermione as she was dragged into the drawing-room, her muddy boots scuffing along the flooring. She heard Ron shouting for her and saw Draco standing like a statue, frozen in fear.

It wasn’t until the mad witch threw her to the floor that Hermione regained her senses other than debilitating dread. Magic wrapped around each of her limbs, securing her to the boards beneath her. The darkness that gripped Bellatrix made her feel lightheaded and heavy. She couldn’t brace herself for what was to come even though she already knew.

“How did you steal the sword, you dirty muggle?” Bellatrix snarled. “Did you break into my vault?”

Hermione’s brain stalled. Was she supposed to play this part? Could she deviate from the path she’d been cast in against her will? Her silence cost her.

“ _ Crucio _ !”

The searing pain was blinding and deafening, as if being struck by lightning. Her ears were ringing when it ended even though her nerves were still sparking. It shocked her mind, though, as if it jump-started her cognition.

***

Draco watched as his aunt restrained his wife, his Persephone, his Hermione on his family’s drawing-room floor. It was all because of him, this horror scene that he couldn’t bring himself to walk away from nor intervene. His mother and father were parties to this tragic gathering, too.

He nearly collapsed when he saw the curse erupt from Aunt Bella’s wand. It stole his breath like a dementor, sucking away his happiness and any hope. Then, he felt the charm strike him. A silent  _ immobulus _ , which made his gaze freeze on his father to his right beside the fireplace, and he saw Lucius’ tightened grip on the head of his cane. 

Suddenly, he didn’t have a choice. Draco was stuck until the charm released him. Powerlessness made him panic. 

And then, he heard her speak. Her voice was strained from the pain of the Cruciatus curse, but he had no choice but to hear her words. Words that Draco couldn’t comprehend.

“I saw you with the baby. Your child, Delphini. She’s his, isn’t she?”

His aunt took a beat to respond and his parents were both now riveted. Draco still couldn’t move, couldn’t imagine what Hermione was trying to do.

“H-how… you little liar, thief!” Bellatrix screamed, sounding flabbergasted.

To Draco’s surprise, his mother stepped forward and he heard feet shuffling. No more curses were cast and he found himself being able to fight his father’s spell. The scene he found upon being able to turn back to where his aunt and Hermione were was perhaps the most bizarre thing he’d ever seen.

His mother was soothing her hysterical sister who was gesticulating wildly as Hermione lay where she’d been tortured moments before. Lucius stormed out of the room. 

Draco made a split-second decision.

With the flick of his wrist, he freed Hermione and was standing over her only seconds later. He didn’t give her a chance to get up before gathering her hair in his hand -- secretly hiding his hand at the back of her neck in the mass of curls -- and held her up by it. His wand was pointed at her throat.

“I will secure her in the dungeons for further questioning, Aunt Bella,” Draco said, his voice echoing in the large room.

His aunt’s shrewd eyes, now manic, trained on him. “No!”

_ Fucking hell. That back-fired.  _

“Secure her somewhere else, Draco. She mustn’t collude with her friends.” 

He took a full breath and nodded. Draco bound Hermione and hauled her until they passed through the door. Then, he apparated her to his bedroom. 

Immediately, upon landing, he removed the bindings and then carried her into his ensuite bathroom. Flicking the taps to hot on the large tub, he added Epsom salts and lavender oil, the same regiment his mother had used when he’d been on the receiving end of the same curse she’d endured. 

Hermione nearly slipped in his hold as he gently removed her clothing. She was shivering, teeth chattering as he placed her into the bath. His wife flinched and then relaxed as the warmth encased her. Her sigh became a balm to his soul, for his own wretched inaction. 

He wanted to ask her what she’d been talking about, what had made his aunt balk at torturing her. Draco started to calm as she went boneless in the bath, her breathing slow and steady. He cast a stasis charm on the water to keep her warm, keep her nerves calm. 

“I’m sorry, so sorry,” he murmured, stroking her curls. 

She came back to herself in fifteen minutes, her eyes brighter and focusing on him at her side. Only the bottom half of her hair was wet, the ends limp with water. His strong, brilliant, beautiful wife. 

“Draco,” she rasped. “P-please. Join me?” 

He couldn’t deny her anything. Not that he didn’t want to join her, but he wanted to give her space after his ultimate failure to protect her. 

“Are-are you sure?”

She blinked in confusion. “Of course. I need you.”

Was she in complete denial of his absolutely spectacular blunder? He put his face in his hands. Draco couldn’t imagine why she would want him anymore.

“I couldn’t do anything… I-I… once I saw it was happening… it was all for nothing,” he sobbed. 

“Draco, look at me.” 

He wanted to find disappointment, anger, and frustration in her eyes, but he didn’t. Hermione was concerned for him. She cared for him still.

“I love you. There was nothing you could have done. In the end, it was my own battle. But we will win this war, together. We have to figure out the next steps.”

He was speechless for a moment. All his nightmares of her hating him post-war seemed unreal. “I love you, too, Hermione. You were so courageous… I don’t think I could have done what you did.”

Draco kissed her palm and then her inner wrist where her heart beat for him. He disrobed and slid in behind her, cradling her naked body. Washing her hair, her softened skin. Nothing else mattered. 

A while later, something on the floor of the bathroom caught his eye as he picked up their clothing while Hermione napped in his bed. The Death Eater mask he’d been poised to wear to meet the Dark Lord earlier. Draco assumed his father had made excuses for him.

Hermione stirred with a moan, muscles sore in her stretching along the bed. She said something to him, but he didn’t hear it in his reverie.

“What was that, darling?”

“We need to free Harry and Ron and whoever else is in the dungeons.” 

He pursed his lips. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it was just that it would take some strategy to do so. 

“Leave it to me, I’ll see what I can do. You need your rest, Hermione,” he placated her. 

She looked deliciously rumpled and Draco had to remind himself that he shouldn’t be coming on to her in this state of recovery. He put his trousers on, just so that he wouldn’t be tempted.

Then, his senses picked up on something. Something in the hallway. Draco frowned and was about to cast a security ward when the door blasted off the hinges. His reflexes allowed him to dive out of the way.

Standing in the smoking door frame was Potter, Weasley, Looney Lovegood, a goblin, and a house elf -- Dobby? The teen wizards had their wands trained on him. 


	57. Skirmish

“Oi! Malfoy,” the Weasel bellowed at him. Draco was too disgruntled to roll his eyes in annoyance.

Before anyone could say anything else, Potter was rushing towards the bed, towards Hermione, calling her their pet name ‘Mione’. The redhead still had his wand pointed at Draco, which he simply glared at. He wasn’t going to put up a fight.

“Now that we’ve all been reunited in such a timely fashion, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Draco drawled, tapping his foot.

Weasley scoffed. “We’re sure as hell not going anywhere with you, Ferret.”

Now Draco did roll his eyes. He was transfigured by that dolt Crouch Junior Polyjuiced as Mad-Eye Moody one bloody time!

“Ronald, you have no say in whether or not Draco comes with us. If he wants to, he is welcome,” Hermione argued hotly. 

“You really should rest, love,” he said feebly, knowing she would most likely do whatever she pleased. 

Hermione pursed her lips, deliberating. “You’re right, Draco, but you said it yourself that we need to leave this place. It’s only a matter of time before Death Eaters comes looking for us.”

Draco flinched, hand absently covering his mark. “Not you, love,” Hermione amended. 

“Where do we go? We can’t go to the Burrow…” Potter mused aloud.

“Shell Cottage,” Weasley said, his wand now lowered. “Can you help us, Dobby?” 

The elf steps forward, eyes wide. “It would be Dobby’s greatest honor to help Harry Potter and his friends!” he states magnanimously.

Draco glanced at Hermione who happened to be staring at him. He moved to her side as Dobby took Weasley and the goblin’s hands to apparate them out. Only Potter remained with them. 

Scar-head was pacing across the length of the bedroom and Draco took his distraction as an opportunity to check with Hermione. She looked a bit frayed but still sharp. He felt relieved as she gently took his hand in hers.

“Will they be able to track you?” she whispered with concern. He could tell it was concern for his safety, but Draco cared more about hers than his own.

He shook his head, even though he could feel Potter’s curious green eyes on them. “Not with house elf magic, no, I don’t think so. I want to… I just…”

“Don’t know if it’s safe?” Hermione finished for him. Draco grimaced. “Draco, nowhere is safe anymore. They will be at our heels until we win.”

His eyes flashed to her golden-brown ones. He’d said the same thing to his mother not long ago. It was true. There was no guarantee anymore, not even Hogwarts was safe -- Draco had ensured that himself. His stomach sank at the memory, which he pushed deep inside the well-organized confines of his mind.

Hermione gasped at his side and when he opened his senses again, he saw a corporeal Patronus hovering in front of him. A cat.

His mother’s frantic voice spoke: “Draco… she’s coming... And she’s called him.”

Potter released a grunt of pain after the silver-white cat dissolved. “Harry!” his wife cried.

His rival was clutching his raven-haired head as if fighting off an attack. Potter had doubled over in the sudden pain. Draco’s heart was thundering in his chest as he attempted to determine what to do if Dobby didn’t make it back soon.

The Dark Lord was coming… His aunt was most likely walking up the stairs already. His mother had bought them some time after Hermione had sent her into a fit of senselessness. He wasn’t sure he could apparate both her and Potter somewhere else. 

His heightened senses picked up footsteps approaching his bedroom. They had a matter of seconds…

_ Pop!  _ Dobby reappeared in front of them with a smile. 

“Quickly,” Draco said, gesturing for Potter to join them and the elf. He made sure Hermione was holding the elf’s hand. Scar-head squinted at him, his internal pain still present.

His bedroom door flew off the hinges, missing the group of them by a few feet. Bellatrix stood in the fractured doorway, wand pointed in front of her. She took a few steps in and manically surveyed the room. 

***

Hermione’s legs felt like they’d collapse beneath her as the dark witch entered the room. It was like muscle memory as well as her exhaustion taking a toll on her weary body. In the split second it took to glance at Draco, she could barely comprehend what was happening. 

Her husband must have taken a few steps away from her as his aunt stormed in. Now, he had his wand aimed at the trio. There was something in his eyes, though. Something that opposed what was actually happening. 

The strange skirmish that ensued next passed by second by second, like in a Muggle film: frame by frame, scene by scene. She saw Harry draw his wand from the corner of her eye. Hermione opened her mouth, but she was too late. 

Harry cried, “ _ Expelliarmus _ !” 

The spell launched at Bellatrix and not Draco, but it never reached the mad witch. The shielding spell had come from the side. From her husband’s wand. 

Harry shifted, eyes narrowing at the blonde wizard, distracted from their main adversary. Hermione saw her friend redirect his wand and ire at her husband. Without her wand, she had to resort to using her raw magical core to shield Draco.

“Nephew!” Bellatrix barked, ignorant of what was happening between the teenaged wizards.

This time, Harry’s spell was wordless. Hermione’s shield successfully protected Draco, but she couldn’t hold it up for more than a second.

“Aunt Bella, I’m glad you could help me apprehend these prisoners. Unfortunately, I can’t disarm the house elf, he’s been freed,” Draco growled out. 

Before Bellatrix could respond, her husband mouthed ‘Go, now’ to her. As if he needed the permission, Dobby whirled them away as Draco fired off a spell that narrowly missed them. As they landed on the beach, Hermione struggled for her grip on consciousness. 

The last thing she heard was the waves lapping at the sand. 

***

Hermione woke in a nest of warmth, her body boneless yet rested. The fuzziness of her mind had left. She heard someone moving about the room as she opened her eyes to the sunlit room. 

“Draco…” Her voice rasped. A glass of water was placed to her lip and she drank greedily to soothe her throat. 

It was Fleur at her bedside and she remembered that they’d made it to Shell Cottage. Without Draco. 

“Thank you,” she said, this time clearer. The French witch smiled though her eyes seemed worried. “Harry and Ron? Are they okay?”

“ _ Oui _ , ‘ermione! We are glad you are well again too. Ron explained…”

Hermione nodded, the details of her torture unnecessary to be said aloud. The horror was barely at bay in the back of her mind. As if summoned, a redhead poked through the door, piercing blue eyes roving. 

“Come in, Ron. I need to talk to you and Harry,” she said, trying to sound more upbeat than she felt. 

The boys filed in and Fleur warned them not to be too taxing to Hermione’s recovery. Harry appeared haggard, but Ron seemed distracted by something, looking like he did in a particularly difficult game of Wizard’s chess.

“Why’d he do it, ‘Mione?” Hermione blinked at the redhead. 

Harry sighed. “I told him what happened.”

She wanted to snap at Ron, but she still lacked the energy to be fully on her game.

“We can’t waste our time on Draco’s actions. We got out,  _ we’re _ safe. Harry, did you see  _ him _ again? You-know-who? Hermione quickly diverted.

Ron looked incensed. She silenced him with a glare and then directed her attention back to Harry.

“You-Know-Who’s upset. He made a bad mistake when he was summoned. He’s taking it out on the Malfoys,” her bespectacled friend explained, rubbing the back of his neck. She heard Ron smirk.

Hermione flinched, bile rising in her throat. She reached for the water glass again and took a few refreshing gulps. Harry looked like he was thinking, trying to decipher something.

“I think I know what we need to do next. How to get the next Horcrux.”

Hermione brightened. They were back on the right path, somehow Harry had staved off his curiosity with the Deathly Hallows. Even if it meant they had to do it without Draco. 

She pressed on. “What’s next then, Harry?”

“We need to talk to the goblin, Griphook. He was captured for a reason and he said Bellatrix was questioning him too.”

Hermione nodded. “Can you bring him here? And Dobby too. In case we need to detain Griphook.”

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione had pushed her feelings aside and set to the task at hand. After interviewing Griphook, Harry suggests that You-Know-Who may have given a horcrux to Bellatrix since she was a favored servant. Hermione nodded along, speculating how ‘favored’ she really was with Delphini. She was keeping that secret for now, knowing that it would only distract Harry if he knew that Voldemort may have a daughter.

They needed to get into Bellatrix’s vault. And fortunately -- and unfortunately for Hermione -- she’d been in close proximity to the crazed witch. She’d found a long black hair on her jumper that could only belong to one person.

Once their strategy had been put in place, even under the nose of the Order members, the trio prepared themselves. The smell of the Polyjuice potion and the thought of turning into the insane witch from her nightmares made Hermione want to vomit. Yet, if they wanted to win this war, she had to do this. 


	58. Gringotts

She didn’t even want to glance into the puddles on the cobblestone near the entrance to Gringotts, didn’t even want to glimpse the reflection she’d transformed into minutes earlier. The performance she’d have to make was already taking an emotional toll on her. Taking a deep breath, Hermione disguised as Bellatrix Lestrange poised herself to stride into the goblin bank. 

“Mrs. Lestrange!” a snide voice called from her left. Hermione froze and looked over at the wizard approaching her.

A Death Eater, Travers. She adopted a superior expression and gave him the side-eye.

“I heard you’d been expressly confined to the Manor by our gracious Lord.” The wizard sneered down at her.

Hermione’s innards clenched, but she tried not to let it show. She feigned nonchalance as best as she could. 

“As my husband has been called away by our venerable Lord, I am the only one with access to our vault, Travers. Our Lord permitted me to check in on our precious property,” she said snidely.

Travers frowned, but it was immediately replaced with a smirk. “I’ll be happy to escort you into Gringotts, Mrs. Lestrange.”

Hermione severely nodded and took the Death Eater’s arm. This wasn’t a good sign. What if she couldn’t pull this off and fool the goblins let alone Mr. Travers. 

A Polyjuiced Ron and an invisibility-cloaked Harry and Griphook followed behind her as Bellatrix’s heels clicked along the marble floors alongside her unexpected escort. Over the sound of her quickening heartbeat, Hermione barely heard the trotting footsteps behind them. She heard Ron’s voice mutter, “What the bloody--”

“Aunt Bella!” a familiar voice called and she froze uncharacteristically as said witch.

Platinum hair flashed into her vision. Hermione gaped at Draco Malfoy who was now walking companionably on the opposite side of his aunt from Travers.

“D-Draco, I-I told you that you needn’t accompany me on this errand,” she recovered more or less, voice trembling. He couldn’t possibly know--

Draco leveled a glare at Travers who backed off with only a “Malfoy” in acknowledgment. Her husband gripped her elbow lightly to slow them to a stop only ten yards from the reception desk. The background noise of the bank covered their conversation. She had to remind herself that a disguised Ron was lurking a yard away and not some other eavesdropper.

Hermione gasped, closing her eyes as Draco leaned in and kissed her cheek. She heard him inhale her scent and then he pulled away back to his full height. She was supposed to be his aunt! 

His eyes searched hers for a second and a smirk alighted his features. “Mother sent me to keep you company. Anyway, I have something for the Malfoy vault as well.”

Before she knew what was happening, Draco had tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and led her to the desk. How could he possibly be here? Was this better than if she’d been alone? The goblin at the desk surveyed them wearily as her git of a husband smirked.

“Identification?” 

Draco revealed his wand from his cloak. Hermione’s heart stopped. She had no way to identify herself as Bellatrix besides her Polyjuiced appearance. A tremble went through her, hand clutching Draco’s arm. 

“Check your right pocket,” her husband whispered as the goblin checked his wand. Shakily, she did as he suggested and her fingers wrapped around a wand. And not just any wand, a nearly 13-inch Walnut wand. Bellatrix’s wand!

It took all her effort not to react as she turned to present the newfound wand to the goblin. The creature seemed to deliberate and begrudgingly admitted them. Hermione stuck Bellatrix’s nose in the air, still being led by Draco, behind the goblin. She still suspected that he knew it was her somehow but couldn’t figure out how he knew.

Hermione was grateful that Ron hadn’t said anything, knowing the Weasleys’ innate hate for the Malfoys. While the goblin seemed distrustful, Hermione knew that was the goblin culture in regards to wizards. One day, she hoped to change that, but for now, she had to help Harry defeat Voldemort.

Draco didn’t make small talk with his aunt, but did carefully help her into the cart as if waiting for the hidden Harry and Griphook to clamber in after them. Hermione wondered why Draco needed access to his vault. Of course, that wasn’t important. She was relieved to see him even though it was unexpected and in strange circumstances.

“We’ll go to the Lestrange vault first. I know my aunt was quite keen on checking on her belongings,” Draco directed the goblin who nodded with narrowed eyes.

The cart rolled along the tracks and then the speed picked up as they swooped into a low curve. Hermione swore she heard Draco mutter something negative under his breath as suddenly they are drenched by a waterfall. 

“The Thief’s Downfall,” Draco sighed as he turned to her, casting a spell at the goblin leading them. He didn’t look surprised at all now that her Polyjuice had been nullified. The goblin kept them going to the Lestrange vault without heeding their changes.

Draco must be controlling it. The blonde wizard dried their clothes, looking somewhat bored at this predicament. Hermione was blinking owlishly at him, his aunt’s wand still clutched in her hand.

He drawled impatiently, “Come out, Potter.”

Harry and Griphook removed the cloak and Draco dried them off as well. “What’s going on?” Harry demanded of her husband.

Draco simply glanced over at Ron whose appearance had also returned to normal. Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise as she looked between the two former nemeses. 

“Ron?”

The redhead sighed, blushing. “I contacted Malfoy with your journal, ‘Mione. I thought he would help us in case we ran into trouble proving our identities. Bill always said security was extra tight and I figured with the Death Eaters and all…” He shrugged as if it was no big deal that he had asked a Malfoy for help.

Unable to help herself, Hermione draped her arms around both tall wizards and hugged them as if in a team huddle. 

“Don’t get used to this teamwork, ‘Mione. It’s going to take a lot more to trust this supreme git!”

Draco rolled his eyes and smirked. Harry looked surprised at his best friend, but he nodded in solidarity to the Slytherin. 

“I still can’t believe you were all daft enough to break into Gringotts, disguised as my aunt no less!” Draco laughed.

Hermione punched him in the shoulder. He sobered slightly and threw an arm around her, his fingers curling around her hip. She wanted to tell him how glad she was to see that he was okay after hearing of the Malfoy’s torture, that he’d come to their aid and Ron’s begrudging behest. Most of all, Hermione wanted to tell him how much she loved him and had missed him. 

But they’d arrived at the vault. And there was a dragon blocking their path.

***

“Now you can see why my aunt thought it was impossible for someone to break into her vault and steal the sword,” Draco drawled, waving a hand at the dragon.

The other goblin that appeared to be working with the trio -- he heard Potter call him Griphook -- was muttering and climbed out of the cart. Griphook shook the clankers to incapacitate the dragon that was conditioned to fear the sound. He felt bad for the creature that was his namesake. It was pitiful for a large, powerful beast.

He saw the look of compassion in Hermione’s eyes as they approached. “This is horrible,” she whispered. Draco dragged her by the hand beyond the cowering beast.

“Go quickly! My brethren know something is amiss,” Griphook said. 

Draco magically controlled the other goblin to open the vault, but he refused to participate in the robbery. He needed to make sure that he didn’t have a memory of actually being present for this part in case his mind was read later. Draco was probably fucked anyway.

What could only have been minutes later, as Draco waited with the  _ imperiused  _ goblin, he heard the other goblins approaching. The Gryffindors and Griphook were still in the vault. Draco removed the curse on the goblin and found the invisibility cloak that Potter had left in the cart.

From his vantage point, Draco cast a few Confundus charms to buy the trio more time. His wife and her friends finally burst into the passageway now surrounded by semi-confused goblins. Potter did the unthinkable before Draco could reveal himself. 

He freed the bloody dragon!

Then, with barely any hesitation, Hermione and Ron joined Harry on top of the incensed, free dragon.  _ Fuck! _ Draco was swearing under his breath as he too went after them under the invisibility cloak, which nearly blew off him as he jumped. 

Draco was partially blacked out by fear as he hung on for dear life.  _ Bloody Gryffindors! _ At least he saw that Weasley was shitting bricks at riding a fucking dragon through Gringotts and then escaping. 

He hadn’t realized that he’d fully passed out until he woke up on solid ground with Hermione peering at him with concern. When the witch saw he was uninjured, she tackled him, clutching him as if he were the dragon they’d been riding. 

Hermione had been so busy making sure he was alright and barraging him with questions when he saw Potter doubling over, holding his forehead. A few seconds later, Scarhead looked pale but otherwise unharmed. Draco’s brow furrowed.

“He knows,” Potter said cryptically. “He knows we have the cup. We need to go to Hogwarts. To Nagini.”

Draco’s jaw dropped. “He’ll probably figure out what has happened to the others… We should go as soon as possible,” Hermione jumped in. 

“Hogwarts is Death Eater central,” Draco argued. “That’s madness.”

His wife and Potter grimaced but otherwise looked determined. Weasley, on the other hand, smirked. 

“Good thing you’re here, Malfoy,” the ginger wizard gleefully. Draco sneered at him, knowing that Weasley would use him at all costs. Deep down, he didn’t blame Weasley after all Draco had done to them.


	59. Battle

Hermione gave Draco an apologetic look as they prepared to disapparate to Hogsmeade. The trio donned the invisibility cloak and Draco felt even more alone as he whisked himself away to one of the most dangerous places in the Wizarding world. 

Of course, the sirens went off as soon as they materialized into the Hogwarts-adjacent town. It was the only way he knew that the other three had made it there since they were completely unseen. Draco put on a stern expression as Death Eaters ran out to inspect what had happened. 

“Malfoy?” one of them said in surprise.

“Yes? Why do you all have these blasted alarms on?” he scowled, nose in the air. 

The heavyset wizard went to disable the alarms, but the taller one stopped him. “You came alone?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Does it look like anyone else came with me?” 

The two Death Eaters looked around. Finally, the obnoxious alarm was cut off in mid-screech. Draco turned to head towards the castle as the guards returned to wherever they had come from. Once he knew they were gone, he changed course to the Hog’s Head. 

Aberforth scowled at him, more so than the other three students. Guilt twisted in his gut, remembering that he had nearly killed this wizard’s brother, as he listened to the younger Dumbledore’s story of his childhood with his brother’s anger, Grindewald’s involvement, and his sister’s untimely death. It was odd to hear such a plightful childhood that didn’t revolve around the Dark Lord. It made Draco feel even worse about his own behavior, his own choices.

He was unsurprised to hear Potter defend his guardian headmaster to Aberforth and then maintain that they still had a chance against the Dark Lord. Even so, his impassioned speech gave Draco a small amount of hope that he might be free from the reign of terror that he hadn’t willingly signed up for.

A painting of a young waif of a witch obeys the older wizard’s request as she disappears into the background through a tunnel. To his surprise, Longbottom, worse for wear and scarred, comes through the painting. The Gryffindor trio eagerly embraced their once-goofy friend who Draco had also bullied. Neville’s gaze hardened once it found Draco, but Hermione quickly whispered something to him and Ron even backed her up and gestured towards the wayward Slytherin.

Longbottom nodded stiffly and Draco returned the acknowledgment. As Neville told his story of standing up to the Carrows and resisting the Death Eaters’ torture of students. Draco couldn’t help but be impressed by the former-cowardly Gryffindor. 

“Hello, Neville!” a dreamy voice said behind them. Luna Lovegood had joined them from Shell Cottage to help. She greeted each of them nicely, even Aberforth, and Longbottom swept her into a long hug. 

The Gryffindors and Ravenclaw moved toward the tunnel and Draco hesitated. Neville looked back at him. 

“I’m not sure you should come, Malfoy. Some of these students may not take kindly to another Death Eater… Er… even though you’re on our side.”

Hermione waved her friends along and said she’d follow shortly. “Draco,” she said gently. “I’ll be back in a moment. Don’t think too much about this. You’re on our side; you have been for longer than anyone else realizes.”

She kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand. His heart leapt for a moment and then she disappeared into the painting and he watched as she became smaller and smaller down the tunnel.

“You care for her, dontcha, boy?” the gruff voice said behind him.

“I love her,” Draco sighed. “And I’ve been trying to do everything I can to make it up to her.”

Aberforth grunted. “Be there for her, listen to her. That’s all you have to do.”

He whispered his response, “I’m trying.”

** _** 12 Hours Later **_ **

Draco’s mind could not comprehend the battle now raging after Potter was declared dead. He had officially defected and now he was facing off against a snarling Death Eater whose identity was still obscured by a mask. It wasn’t his father, no, he’d turned tail along with his mother. Draco had insisted on staying for his wife.

He incapacitated the Death Eater as soon as he saw Hermione, Ginny, and Luna fighting his aunt. Alarms were in his head and he ran to help them fend her off. His aunt was snarling and hurling curses and his presence distracted her for a split second as he cast a shield charm. They were shoved aside, though, as the Weasley matriarch faced off against Bellatrix. 

Hermione grabbed his hand as Mrs. Weasley successfully felled his aunt. His jaw dropped, but he felt no grief for the demented witch. He’d never known his aunt before she’d gone insane. A cry of anger from Voldemort was directed at the redheaded witch and before he could even help her, a curse flew from the dark wizard. Nothing hit Mrs. Weasley, though.

Harry Potter had appeared like a ghost to save the day. He’d thrown up the shield charm and then he was facing off against Voldemort. Draco listened intently as Potter described all he’d done, all that had been done, in this fight against the Dark Lord. Draco’s own assignment to kill Dumbledore foiled by the great wizard’s own orchestration of his death by Snape. 

In the end, the Killing curse rebounded back at Voldemort in a flash of light.

His left arm tingled where his mark had been burned. He didn't have the energy to look at it as relief swept through the crowd of the Order and students. Hermione hugged him tightly, her presence, swallowing his exhaustion. He allowed her to pull away reluctantly to embrace the Boy Who Lived Again. 

Then, she came back to him and said, "I'd like to spend some time with the Weasleys and be with them… For Fred. Why don't you see a healer to heal your cuts, love?"

Absently, he nodded and kissed her smudged cheek. The world around him moved as if in a fog or as if he’d sunk to the bottom of the Black Lake. He didn’t register the healer fussing about his minor injuries, his dehydration, his expenditure of magic. Draco failed his aim to ignore Hermione’s movements because he was always drawn to her like a moth to a flame. 

Would all this mean extradition or imprisonment for him? Would he be saved by his connection to his Immortal wife? Would they see that he’d tried to do the right thing in the end? 

All he wanted was for Hermione to accompany him to wherever they could find a hot bath and a bed. Draco felt weary eyes from passing students and Order members he didn’t know. The Malfoys would be social pariahs for years to come along with any other Death Eaters who managed to avoid prison or death.

***

He woke to the strong, heady scent of lavender. It transported him back to his wedding night and the overwhelming happiness he’d felt. Draco slowly sat up on a hospital bed where he’d most likely passed out from exhaustion, but he was no longer in the hospital wing after the battle. 

Somehow, he’d gotten transported to the prefect’s bath. Steam rose from the large pool and soft footsteps made his head whip around. His goddess, Hermione Granger, was wearing naught but a towel as she made her way towards him. 

When she vanished his clothes with a wave of her wand, Draco knew it had to be a dream, a hallucination after the horror and atrocity that had occurred. She smiled at him, but her eyes were weary and sad. He let her lead him to the bath and take his breath away when she dropped her towel.

“Let’s have a soak together, Draco. Wash away all the terribleness of today, at least what we can.”

He nodded, entranced as she wrapped herself around him where he was seated on the bench of the bath. They clung to one another in the warmth, in the floral aroma, in a brief moment of heaven after hell had reigned on earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays to all my readers! Just so you know, I skipped a bunch of stuff in this chapter that I left up to the canon more or less. The next chapter will be the final chapter!!!!


	60. Sweet Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter!!!!!

Hermione came violently around his fingers, bucking on his lap, the bathwater rippling. Draco had been cooing in her ear: 

_ Cum for me, love, squeeze my fingers…. _

_ That’s it! Good girl… _

_ All mine… _

Even if her mind hadn’t been stuck in a loop of neverending pleasure, Hermione still would have agreed with him,  _ Yes! Yes, Draco… All yours…. _ Her eyes rolled back as she shook, thighs trapping his fingers until he pulled gently out of her. He held her waist with the other so she wouldn’t float bonelessly away in the water.

Her eyes were heavy, but she managed to see him slide two fingers into his mouth and suck her orgasm from them. The expression of hedonistic enjoyment made her heart stutter. Draco looked debauched as he dragged his fingers from his lips. 

Hermione surged forward to taste herself on his tongue and earned a deep moan from him that she felt in her breasts pressed against his chest. She felt him hard and heavy against her flat stomach, slipping against her skin. He wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

A second later, Draco reversed their positions to where she was now resting against the bench and he leaned over her. The steam from the bath made him look ethereal like the elves from Tolkien’s novels. His eyes were dark, but there was something else, something guarded. 

She reached a hand out that felt like it was floating in her weary and post-orgasmic state and brushed his defined cheekbone made of polished alabaster. He closed his eyes for a moment at her touch but loosely circled the wrist with his hand and kissed her palm. 

“Are you sure… you still want me, Hermione?” His hesitant tone startled her. He’d been so confident minutes ago when he’d claimed her as his own.

She was opening her mouth when he continued. “I don’t know how this post-war world will be… I don’t know if I’ll be good for you. I don’t want to live without you, but I’ll understand in time. After all, this had a time limit like all Immortal roles.”

Draco was babbling and she couldn’t help grinning like a fool. She loved him, but she didn’t want him to doubt how she felt about him.

“I fell in love with you, Draco. Knowing that this was a possibility and that the opposite outcome was as well. I would still choose you. You risked everything to save me,” she said quietly, but no less sincerely. This was for him.

Hermione reached between them for his thick cock and he grunted as she pumped him a few times. Leaning up to capture his lips, she felt him melt completely into her as direct him into her warm center.

She wrapped her legs around him to pull him forward, his length and girth stretching her pussy deliciously. 

Hermione began panting in his ear: “Even after you’re no longer Hades, I hope we’ll spend more time together since we won’t be separated during two seasons.”

He bucked up into her, his thrusts reaching her cervix. The sensation made her quiver and gasp. Draco was moaning incoherently as he started to pound into her depths.

“I-I can’t believe… you’ll want me afterward… I-I’ll make sure to prove… that I’m worthy,” he grunted. 

“You are… Draco!” she gasped as she felt the pleasure build inside her. They frantically chased their precipices.

Draco took a nipple into his mouth and tugged with his teeth lightly. Hermione felt her entire being clench around him as he continued to pump into her. His strangled cry preempted a few thrusts and spilling deep inside her. 

In their post-coital state, he gingerly switched their positions so that she was draped over his lap. She nuzzled into his neck, his skin damp and soft. Lavender petals floated around them and on the ripping bathwater.

“I love you, Hermione.”

“I love you too, Draco.” 

_ **** 2 Years Later **** _

Hermione was tending her parents’ garden at their house in London. They were running errands and had become quite the “snowbirds” since their memories had been restored. The Grangers chose to live in Australia in the country’s summer and return for Britain’s summer. 

It was in a matter of days that her parents would be flying back to Australia, but today was September 21, 2000. She’d celebrated her birthday with her family as well as Harry and Ron. It had been a lovely affair; however, she longed to go back to Draco. 

Hermione only hoped that her parents would return before she was summoned back to the Underworld for one last time. She and Draco had speculated -- since there wasn’t an exact time limit on the Immortal roles -- that they’d have one more winter together as Hades and Persephone.

Typically, the earth would begin to vibrate within a few meters of Hermione. She’d feel it pulsing in her veins and then she'd be transported like disapparition to the gates of the Underworld where Fluffy and Draco would greet her. They’d celebrate her homecoming like New Year’s Eve with champagne and rich foods.

Hermione couldn’t wait to see Draco. She’d barely seen him all summer as he’d dealt with both the Underworld and the family business now that Lucius was retiring. Of course, she’d had her job at the ministry in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but she hoped once her house-elf legislation went through that she could tackle more of the post-war issues.

She picked a blossom after pruning the plant and watched the sun slowly start to set. Usually, the Immortal magic took her by sundown and it was only a matter of time. Hermione heard the backdoor open and turned, but instead of her parents, she found a familiar head of white-blonde hair.

Her eyes widened at the sight of him in his black ensemble -- entirely overdressed for the unseasonably warm evening. He approached her with a smirk, his hand lazily in his trouser pocket.

“Draco?”

“That’s right. I’m no longer Hades… and you’re no longer Persephone.” The sky around them blazed red-orange as the sun nearly set.

“Really?”

He nodded, an uncharacteristic flush to his cheeks. Draco kissed her hand, bowing low, and then went down on one knee. 

She watched him in slow motion take a box out of his pocket. He opened it and in the black lining sat a simple, elegant ring. Nothing like the one she wore as Persephone. It was absolutely her style and she gaped at him and at the ring.

“Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” she shrieked and threw herself at him. Draco picked her up and twirled her. When he stopped, Hermione glimpsed her parents standing in the doorway he’d come from with tears in their eyes. She smiled blissfully.

Her world was now complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness of this! We were at a cabin with no internet/cell service until this evening.   
Had to include a happy ending in lemons and their lives! Thank you all for joining me for this ride and this is the longest fic I've written, so I appreciate your patience and I hope it doesn't feel rushed since I wanted to end it before 2021.  
Stay safe, everyone!


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